Hard Taught
by Ragnarok Emissary
Summary: Hiccup's son Karma hates dragons and loves pulling pranks on them. After an incident in which he severely injures Toothless, Hiccup says enough. He sends Karma to an uninhabited island to learn his lesson, but it turns out teaching him more than one. R
1. prologue

**Hello, this story is the product of too much and too little sleep, combined with the affirmation that school is now out and I have money and time to burn. Long live summer!**

**I pray for constructive criticism, but if there is a complaint against this, please be gentle for this is my first story written.**

**Disclaimer: I neither own the book nor the movie and characters thereof, I don't even own the computer that I wrote this on! Basically, I own nothing.**

In the black waters a day from the shores of Berk, an island sat. Roughly a mile in diameter, with dry beaches and a surplus of trees that grew more abundantly inland, this island was known for only one thing: seclusion. A few leagues off its shores, a burly viking ship hobbled through the sea toward it. Not exactly a high class carousel as its figure head had been broken off some time ago, with cracks, scratches, and dents littering the surface of the deck. Not exactly high class vikings tended to its riggings and sails, hoping to get to their destination, drop off their package, then high tail it back to their sturdy old village.

Can you guess who I am? Yup, the little-ish guy tied to the mast. Can you guess why I am in this disposition? Then you wouldn't be reading this now would you? My name's Karma, yea kind of a pun in this situation, Haddock's my last name though I wish it weren't. Would have much rather been a Stevenson, anything but a Haddock. Wanna know why? 'Cause my dad's the Haddock that had me tied to a mast an' shipped out to this deserted sand pile.

It's not like I really hurt the dragon, truly, cross my heart. I was just playin' a few jokes . . . again. Ok so I've been doing these sort of things for quite a while, I just see a dragon and I have to just pull a prank on it-you know, its who I am. Honest, this time I did not plan for the ceiling to cave in on "it"; all I did was stuff a fish full of kiddy grass and hide it in the rafters. How was I supposed to know that "it" would do that, I am innocent! . . . Ish.

"Anything ye want to say before we see 'im off?" Gobber asked in his scottish accent, _Oh_ how patronizing he sounded. The silhouette of Hiccup Haddock turned, facing me with sorrow in his eyes. _Oh come on! If your lookin' at me like that, then don't do it, you know you don't want to!_

"We'll come back every two weeks until you've learned your lesson. Were leaving you with everything you'll need to survive for the first while, forage for the rest." He said with softness, resignation in his green eyes, I glared back with venom in my own. He had Gobber hold me to the mast with his hook hand as he cut the ropes with his dagger. I was tempted to make a break for it when they led me across the rickety deck, but where would I go? Where could I go? Must have been thinking too hard, because I didn't even notice that I was already standing on the beach with two wooden chests holding my "supplies", the ship already beginning to shrink into the distance.

Shanghied to learn a lesson I don't even know about, on an island with nobody to ask, and with the only reassurance that I will be visited every two weeks by the father I don't get along with. Sounds great doesn't it?

**To be continued . . .**

**I promise that the story gets better once I get my thoughts straight. R & R. Questions, by all means ask.**


	2. Wonderful First Day

**I have returned. Once again: This story is purely imagination and time to kill. long live smoothies!**

**Read, review, ask questions and such, etc.**

**Disclaimer: I own neither the characters of HTTYD or their respective actors, because I don't believe in ownership over life. I wish owned this computer and the software therein, but my lender doesn't believe in my ownership of Macs; We're working on it.**

"Leather, sticks of metal, rope," I murmur to myself as the before mentioned items plunked onto the sand. I had been going through my possibles over and over, trying to think of what I could possibly do with any of them, the leather was too small to wear or even use for shelter (besides, I had my pelt), the thin bars of steel had absolutely no use in my mind, rope , however, is somewhat useable.

"hatchet-okay now we're getting somewhere, knife, flint'n'steel, and whatever the rest of this crap is . . ." I listed off with more charisma, happy dad had left me with _something_ practical to use, can't exactly survive without fire and protection. I heaped all the supplies from the first box back into it, and shoved it aside as I pulled the smaller second chest closer and opened its lid. Food, some of our tough and tasteless veggies piled in with some dried fish meat, filled the small chest to just below the rim. I grabbed a pale carrot and bit off a chunk, then closed the food box, grabbing the hatchet out of the possibles box before closing it too. Holding the rest of the carrot in my mouth like a cigar, with the hatched hanging on my belt, I grabbed my "luggage" and started to drag it through the soft sand, heading inland. Thank Odin that there were handles on the sides, curse Odin that they didn't have wheels on their opposite sides. I only got twenty feet into the dark trees before I stopped, winded, being tied to a mast for a whole day really takes it out of you.

I dropped my stuff up against the stump of a palm, looking for the actual tree in the dark, for hope that I wouldn't have to cut one down myself. Ah, there it was, half buried in the sand. I laced my fingers under the protruding end and heaved up, grunting with exertion as the dead tree slowly rose from its sunken position in the half sand. _Whew, now to pull it over to the stump, _I planned to myself as I attempted to lift/drag the hefty piece of wood to my stump. Once it was there, I hefted the one end on top of the stump, making an upside down check mark that would serve as a a backbone to pile brush on each side, like a lopsided tent.

"Forget the walls." I wheezed, bent over. I laid down underneath my mock shelter, looking up to see that the moon was almost centered in the sky, time to sleep. Listening to the odd bird calls, and voices of the woods, I wondered just how uninhabited this rock really was . . .

After being dead to the world for the whole night and a few hours after dawn, I rose groggily from my slumber. After eating a few chunks of dried fish for breakfast, leaving the vegetables be, and going through my routine of rummaging through my possibles to see if anything had eluded my appraisal, I deemed myself ready to explore my new_ temporary _residence. Hatchet held ready, knife at my side, food in my pants pocket, I stalked inland. Not long after, I noticed the change of scenery from palm trees and sand to Beeches and rich dirt, how this kind of vegetation had survived in the cold climate in this area, I knew not nor cared.

From my view on the ship I knew that there was a cliff heaped up on one side of the island while the rest stayed flat. If I could get up there, then I'd be able to see the entire island, and possibly find a better spot to set up my lodgings. My thoughts were cut off as I stumbled into a clearing and bumped into something BIG, something that I had prayed never to see again: a dragon. It was curled up, sleeping I hoped, its dark green body was riddled with stripes like a tiger and gnarled horns sticking out haphazardly. Identification from dad's cool picture book, plus its shining wing-scales: Striped Timberjack, speed twelve, extremely dangerous-kill on sight. _H-yeah right! _

I turned very slowly, plotting the clearest path through the undergrowth, and ran . . .

**Dun Dun Dun . . . okay so its not that suspenseful.**

**Thank all of you for reading these chapters, and forgive me if I fail at writing. Criticize constructively, be gentle with complaints, and most of all: Enjoy!**

**Thank you to all who have reviewed, input is wonderful!**


	3. Bad Karma

**Once again I find myself with too much time coupled with my devout desire to sleep, yet being unable to do so. I have been told that the chapters need to be longer, therefore I will really try to lengthen it out this time. Please tell me your thoughts on this story, if its goodish, or if I'm just hopeless, I want to know. Hail Texas Roadhouse!**

_Italics = thoughts (just_ thought _ you'd want to know)_

**Karma: So what are you doing?**

**Me: I'm going into withdrawal! Leave me alone!**

**Karma: . . . why?**

**Me: because I own nothing!**

**Karma: not even the laptop?**

**Me: NOT EVEN THE FRIGGIN LAPTOP!**

Hiccup sat at a table in the town hall, sipping on some dry ale. He never had a taste for the stuff, but figured "what the heck, maybe it will make the anxiety go". He thought back to his decision, calculating Karma's chance of survival, he was determined not to ask Fishlegs because he wanted to give his son the benefit of the doubt. He heard the tap of Gobber's peg leg on the cold stone floor as he neared and plopped down next to him.

"Never pegged you as the drinking type." Gobber stated flatly, trying to make conversation. Hiccup took another swig of his new friend, did it really taste that bad?

"Never pegged you as the caring type." He retorted just as bluntly, voice slightly slurred; he took another gulp, the liquor was starting to become more appealing. He closed his eyes, leaned his head back, and sighed.

"What am I going to do with him Gobber?" Hiccup asked, resigned. Internally smiling at the nostalgia of it, Gobber half wanted to say "put him in training with the others", but held himself back. He decided to get a mug of ale for himself, before concocting of a reply. He knew what Hiccup was thinking, his son was now a days trip away, in possible danger, and he was questioning whether it was the right thing to do.

"Well, if ya bring him back, he'll just start up his habits again. If ye leave him there, he'll probably get hurt; he's not the type to die though, its in his blood." Gobber pointed at Hiccup before continuing "A little scarring never hurt anyone, look at you. Look at me. The worst that can happen, is losin' a limb or two."

Not a very comforting thought for Hiccup, he wouldn't wish a lost leg on anyone especially his son. _I should call the whole thing off_, he thought to himself hopelessly before gulping down another mouthful of the tasty drink.

"Now I know what your thinkin', an' I know it sounds hopeless, but the truth is you won't always be around to protect him. He's going to get hurt at some point in his life, probably from his cruel jokes more than anything. The question is: do you want him to learn something from it?" Gobber quoted some of his old talk with Stoic, while changing some of it to fit their current predicament.

"What he did was wrong, you can't argue that, but letting him roam free is more of an enablement than anything. Doing it this way, he'll understand that dragons have a much shorter tolerance for this kind of behavior." Gobber finished his lecture with a long chug on his ale, lifting his hand-mug to accommodate.. Hiccup looked at the wooden hand and shuddered at the visualization of his son waving at him with a wooden arm just like it. He downed the rest of his cup.

(scene change)

I ran like a mad man, my breath already burning at my lungs. I wasn't as quiet as I had hope to be, my feet miraculously homing in on every stick and leaf in my path. I stopped in another clearing, and curled up next to a nearby boulder. Had it heard me? Was it coming? Oh-my-gosh what was that? Oh, whew, it was just me. I breathed in and out as silently as an air starved viking can, which is not very quiet at all. Okay now what kind of noises am I making now, 'cause last time I checked, vikings don't purr.

Wait, purr? . . . Ooh crap. I turned just in time to see a pair of yellow-slitted eyes, rimmed with red lids which belonged to the pale blue head of a deadly Nadder. It was eyeing me, sizing me up I suppose, its gaze lingered on my knife and hatchet. _What did dad say about dragons and weapons again? Um, that you shouldn't approach them with anything threatening-too late, and that you should throw it away if you ever do end up face to face with one. Riiight._

Hatchet's first, it was already in my hand, I tossed it a few feet away from the boulder I was hiding next to. The thing relaxed only slightly, now for the knife. It growled menacingly as my hand went for my blade, I stopped, _maybe this isn't the best idea. _The growling grew as I slowly drew the sharp little blade, and abated once it landed next to the hatchet as if it were saying "thats much better". When the beast started to advance, I knew this wasn't a good idea, I had just thrown away my best hope of walking away alive. It cocked its head to get a better look at its prey, I trembled as I closed my eyes and mentally prepared myself that I was about to be eaten alive. _Why! I threw out my "threatening objects", why is it still coming at me? _

_Oh gods above, please spare me! I promise that I'll never disrespect my father again, please I'm begging you! _I had not really believed in our gods, but figured that the best thing right now was to try, they couldn't really take back salvation if I broke my promise anyway. Could they? Regret and terror welled inside me, _what if I really have to do it?_

The final strike never came. Whether by the gods' will, or just luck, I knew not; what I did know was that the thing was gone and I was safe. Shakily, I propped myself up on the boulder and attempted to steady myself. Seeing as I found myself on the ground once more, it apparently didn't work. After a few seconds of deep breathing I tried again. Minutes passed, and I eventually was able to stand up. I surveyed my surroundings, looking for the patch of grass that I had roughly deposited my armaments.

"Okay, not here, not there, not there." I stated to myself as my eyes darted across the clearing "Agh WHERE ARE YOU!"

(Time Hath Passed)

"The gods must hate me, some people lose their knife _or_ their hatchet, but no, not me: I manage to lose both!" I said strutting in no general direction, completely lost. There were too many trees to see if I was near the high end of the isle or not, and the layout of the ground didn't hint at it either. I stomped angrily, still fuming at my misfortune, not even noticing that there was a change in the landscape to my right. This new geo-whatsical feature of the island was an area where the sea had invaded inland to form a small cove and I was on the ridge overlooking it. Realizing this, I internally jumped for joy, too exhausted to do it for real. I figured that I would be able to go around the whole island and back to my temporary settlement by following the beach. It wasn't that much of a jump to get below, I'd use the water to break my fall.

That was the theory anyway, the process was not as easygoing. I took a few steps back from the edge and then took a running jump forward, enduring the odd sinking feeling in my gut as I fell. All the little caws and cracks that had purveyed my ears became muted as I broke the water, replaced with the burbling roar of water coursing around me. Tiny bubbles introduced into the water by my impact tickled me with their wiggling composure. Everything was peaceful for the moment, but you know how quickly things can turn for the worst, take me for example.

When my head broke the surface for air, it started. From my position in the cove's small center, I could easily see the little cave carved into the side opposite its entrance. The real problem was not the cave, and not directly the inhabitant therein, it was the high pitched screech that was emanating from it. It was like it was shaking my very core while doing the same to my body. I could feel my teeth rattle with the shriek, not to mention that my head was beginning to throb uncontrollably, and my vision was pulsing with black and dark blues. I ducked under the water, relieved at the soothing truth that those horrible screams didn't carry so well under the surface. So enthralled with the absence of pain was I that I didn't even realize that I hadn't taken a breath before diving, and as consequence I was experiencing a horrible burning in my lungs.

I was now facing two choices: die here, or die up there. Neither were things I particularly wanted to do, I prefer life over death, but I figured that I had asked the gods for help enough today and they probably didn't want anything more to do with me. _I'd better hurry,_ I thought to myself, seeing as the surface was drifting further away, or was it me moving? Oh gods my chest hurts. With the last ounce of my energy I frolicked madly to the surface no longer caring if my ears would survive another volley of punishment. Air! I got a good two breaths before the sonic waves began their dirty work, and dived below once more. _Must . . . get . . . away_, I urged my poor body as the darkness began closing shut on my mind. Every muscle burned, tensing and relaxing as if they couldn't decide whether they were done or not._ This must be what dying feels like. Wait! I have my whole life ahead of me; there are places I want to go, things I want to see! I can't die here! Oh but I'm so tired, so cold, so wet. What's the point of living, I'm stuck here . . . No. NO, I have a chance! Dad didn't leave me here to die! He wanted me to learn somethin'! I just have to learn it, then I can get the heck off this tiny rock! Light's fading . . . breath's almost gone . . . can't move . . . anymore . . . g- . . . goodbye cruel world . . ._

I was so out of it, that the crushing grip that had clamped around my shoulders felt like friendly squeeze as it lifted me up. The water rushing past my face was like a light breeze on the rare summer's day at Berk. I was so numb my body felt as weightless above the water as it had below it. Couldn't hear the familiar screech coming from below me disperse into to increasing distance, like I was flying up to the judgement bar in the heavens. I stopped rising into the sky, and the thing carrying me began to glide away from the clouds, back down to the island: my condemned prison. _ wait . . . wait . . . I want to see it . . . I want to see what's up there . . . past the clouds . . . away from the pain . . . d-dad . . . why am I still alive?_

The creature that carried me back to this wretched island dropped me back down, back to earth. From my blurry darkened vision, I could barely make out the improvised shelter that I had put together; loving it and hating it at the same time. _Gods . . . make up . . . your minds . . . do you hate me enough to send me back to suffer?_

Apparently yes . . .

**MWAHAHAHAHA . . . kay so its not that evil, but I like it. 2000 words is a good start for learning to do long chapters. If you haven't guessed, the screeching came from a Thunder Drum hiding in the cove's cave. I haven't decided what kind of dragon saved him yet, hopefully someone has an idea for that. If my descriptions suck, please tell me so I can remedy that. But I won't know about any of your comments or complaints if you don't review.**

**Karma: **Press the button!

**Me: **you know you want to . . .


	4. Friendly Fish

**Hello, It's me, I have too much time and too little to do with it. Shame on me. Oatmeal is Da Bomb! GIVE ME YOUR REVIEWS!**

_Italics = thoughts_

**Me: Karma come back here, we need to write your story!**

**Karma: NO! I'm sulking cuz you killed me off in the story!**

**Me: Your not dead yet darnit! I still have people that want to read your story!**

**Karma: No! You don't own anything! not even your own imagination; you bought that from a demon!**

**Me: Hey, you shut up! That's a touchy subject!**

**Karma: HE OWNS NOTHING!**

**Me: SHADDAP!**

"So, what kinds are on the isle anyway?" Gobber asked, still pretty sober after his third pint. They were getting into the habit of coming down to the mead hall, seeing as Gobber was somewhat out of the job of making weapons, and Hiccup was waiting for Toothless' sprains to finish healing (can you guess how he got them?). It was already dark outside, the end of the first day of Karma's lesson and Hiccup's anxiety pains had dulled only slightly. He tried to recall all the species cataloged on the island in his journal.

"There's a pride of Nadders, a Timber Jack that sometimes migrates there, and um . . . there should be a lot of Terrors somewhere on the island. But I only have that info from a quick survey there; for all I know, there could be a brace of Nightmares!" Hiccup burst out at the end, waving his arms like a drunk man. There could be caves and burrows that he couldn't see from above, what if there were a dragon that would truly kill Karma without a second thought?

"Well, Nightmares would be a little too big to escape a birds eye view. Anythin' in a cave _should_ leave him alone if he leaves them alone, he _shouldn't _be stupid enough to bother anything that is in a position to hurt him." Gobber rationalized, trying to calm his good friend's son, to little avail. Karma was not the smartest, but he wasn't a complete idiot.

"That never stopped him before, Gobber." Hiccup stated angrily, knowing that his son had gotten himself into situations with dragons that would easily have killed him. Had that stopped him? Nope, not even fazed him.

"Like I said last night,: if you aren't around to protect him, he won't have as much to give him courage to do what he does. He's relied on you to protect him from the consequences for so long, I don't think it will take much to show him that." Gobber reasoned, getting tired of arguing. He understood Hiccup's mindset: he had almost lost Astrid, and now there was terrified of losing Karma or anything else for that matter.

"Its because he's used to protection that he'll do something stupid!" Hiccup corrected him, knowing how his son thinks "Once Toothless is in better shape, I'll go down and check for myself."

"Aye, whatever." Gobber sighed, shooing Hiccup off to go home, before thinking back to his battle brother Stoic. _Hiccup's almost old enough to take over the tribe. If he's handling these problems badly, I can't wait to see how he'll take a whole village's._

(Scene change)

-next morning

_Oooowwch,_ everything hurts. It was a miracle that I was alive, but also a curse. My head felt like a frozen egg stuck in boiling water, powdering itself as it was being cooked. My teeth ached, my throat felt like someone had stuffed it with sand and coals, my lungs felt like pincushions with hot nails. Everything else either felt numb and cold, or hot, tender, and achy. Even moving my eyes hurt as they looked for the small chest of food; I hissed in pain when I reached for the box, realizing that even _that_ hurt to do. _Woden, just kill me now! _

I winced as I yanked the lid open, yelping in anger when I saw the insides; waves of agony coursed through my torso from doing so. All the meat, and some of the vegetables were gone, only a few stray carrots and a head of tough, rubbery lettuce. Somebody had dined and dashed while I was sleeping! Freakin ridiculous! No weapons, and now this? I was irked to say the very _very_ least.

I would have screamed "Why does this sort of thing happen to me!", but my throat screamed otherwise. I wanted to jump off a cliff, except I couldn't find one nearby. Slit my wrists and end it all, but I had no knife. Cut my head off, but I was too tired, and didn't have the hatchet. Basically, I wanted nothing more than to die; convinced that it would feel so much better than living through this torture. I picked up one of my last four carrots, fingers squealing in protest, and started to nibble at it as softly as I could as not to hurt my teeth. _Whoever said that it's only fun if you get hurt, had obviously never experienced this kind of pain. Ow-what, now even thinking hurts!_

A twig snapped, a ways away from me, followed by another twig, and another with each footfall. I turned my head, regretting the movement, and looked to the direction my ringing ears perceived to be the source. Something was moving in the bushes, out of sight. I closed my eyes, waiting for more sound to betray their presence. _Snap!_ There it was, and getting closer. _If you've come to kill me, please make it fast. Otherwise, just go away._

Out from the bushes came a black dragon, with a fish in its mouth (cod, I guessed). I curled up as far as I could without dying from the pain it caused. _This is not my day!_

"Toothless?" I was confounded, why was Toothless here? Coming to dish out his revenge for all the things I'd done to it? I looked closer and noticed two things: one he wasn't wearing a saddle, and two, he had both of his tail fins. Conclusion: "it" was not Toothless, it was wild. "It" stared at me for the longest time before cautiously edging over to a spot about five feet away, _Wait, this thing was scared of _me?

The dragon turned its head slowly, let the fish slide out of its maw onto the soft sand, and with a nudge, slid it over to me. I stared at the fish like it was poisonous, "it" stared at me like it wanted me to do something with it. I looked at the little impressions that "its" teeth had made on the codfish, as well as the dirt that had crusted onto its skin, then gagged and gave "it" the "seriously?" look. It just laid down and gave me a stare that said "go on, it's good!". I stared at the fish for a little while longer, lips twitching with disgust. _Here goes nothin',_ I conceded to myself as I picked the good-sized cod up, brushed the dirt off with the back of my hand, and took a bite into the slippery thing, trying to avoid the teeth marks already there.

It tasted grainy, with a hint of salt from the sea it was fished out of; it didn't taste like anything past that, just gross! I tried to shut out the flavor and gag reflex as I chewed, attempting to break up the little bones that I had taken in with the bite. Six painful chews later and the fish was now a rough paste, and I, being unable to bear anymore, attempted to swallow. It failed to go down once, even twice, the third time it finally slid past my adams apple and muscling its way below. I shuddered at the sensation, and held the fish up to the Night Fury. _Here, take it back!_

Apparently it didn't get the message, because it just sat there staring at me, daring me to continue. I started shaking the fish in "its" face, _come on, I don't want it! _It narrowed its eyes and growled, subconsciously screaming "eat it before I shove it down your throat!". Now it may have seemed stupid later, but at that moment I thought "it" really might do something if I didn't finish. I cautiously took another bite of the cod, realizing that eventually I would have to eat where "it" had already bitten._ Blek!_

(half a raw fish later)

_Urg, I don' feel so great,_ sure I was hungry, but not for slimy Icelandic cod. Maybe for some lamb chops, burnt to a crisp, the way Mom used to make em. She never did do things the same way after it happened; she used to walk and run, now she'd just sit in her chair that dad had made and wheel herself around. She used to laugh with me when I made a joke not on "its" expense, but a genuine knee-slapper, now she'd just smile lightly and sometimes not even then.

I looked up at the black dragon watching me, eyes moving from the fish and back, urging me onward. _Raw fish is not good for you. If I could cook it, then maybe I'd keep going, but-wait I have my flint and steel!_ I remembered that there had been chunk of flint in my possibles, along with a square of rough edged steel. I pulled the box over gently, and flung open the lid, taking careful notice of "its" reactions. After a bit of rummaging on my part, I withdrew the fore-mentioned items from my chest of otherwise useless junk. It stared at me curiously as I pulled together some twigs from the sand around me and piled them together. I must have startled It when I first struck the flint and steel together, because It jumped up and growled at me menacingly. It got even louder with the second shower of sparks that I rained down on the tinder, looking up I noticed that its eyes had constricted into slits. _You mean to tell me that I can't cook my food!_

**Okay, not as long as the last one, nor as serious. But hey, Karma needed a break from his unfortunate first day. The Night Fury saved Karma from the Thunder Drum, also ate his food in the box, just thought I'd clear that up. I don't think that this was as eventful as last chapter, but I will have a new chapter that _is_ eventful by tomorrow I think. Yeah the Night Fury idea is kind of cliched (everybody wants one, can you blame them), but I couldn't imagine Karma riding anything else, forgive me. Astrid is Karma's mom if you haven't guessed. Dejavu on some of the story, it makes the father and son more similar than they realize. If you positively loath this chapter, please review and tell me why. If you positively love this chapter, once again, review. INPUT IS HEAVENLY!**

**Karma: whatever, press the button!**

**Astrid: please?**


	5. Slashed

**I have returned! After having the Macintosh taken from me, I have emerged triumphant with another laptop that is slower than molasses in January . . . Yay! The last chapter was more like a rest period between action, this chapter I am confident that there will be action and you will enjoy! If you end up not enjoying it, please review or message me telling me of your concerns and complaints. If you do enjoy it, you already know what to do. Thank you. Glory to Verbatim!**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. Not httyd, not even the chair I sit on while writing this!**

Four days, four long days and Toothless didn't seem to be recovering. Apparently Karma had messed him up worst than Hiccup had originally diagnosed; well, technically it was the roof caving in that had hurt Toothless, not Karma himself, but he was the one that had caused Toothless to roll around up on the rafters. Upon further speculation, Toothless had sprained one wing and cracked the other, dislocated one of his two fins below the wings, and had assorted bruises riddled beneath his scales. All in all: he was miserable, laying in front of the hearth at the Haddock home trying to stay still to keep from hurting himself further. Hiccup's poor fingernails had been chewed raw with worry, for Toothless, for Karma, for his wife Astrid because she had fallen out of her wheelchair again, for everything that wasn't right in his understanding.

Hiccup had abandoned his drinking with Gobber just to sit at home with Toothless, and stew around in his heart and mind for answers. He patted Toothless on his shoulder, careful not to touch any of his injuries, and received an appreciative groan from his dragon. It was getting to be lunch time; he stood up and walked to his Viking style kitchen, which consisted of exactly two pots a frying pan and a shelf of seasonings ordered by no order at all. He pulled a couple of fish from their fish barrel and flopped them into the frying pan, walked over to the hearth and expertly placed the skillet on the coals.

"You gonna just sit here all day?" Astrid said, wheeling down the ramp that had replaced the stairs. Her blond hair a little messy from sleeping, she was starting to look unhealthily skinny again. She knew what this was about, and wanted nothing more than to tell her over-thoughtful husband to buck up! It was just a fall, it didn't hurt because she couldn't feel in her legs anyway; Hiccup was just worrying tirelessly. What he should be putting his mind to is to help with the young village vikings in their dragon training! He had skipped out on it four times!

"Look at me Hiccup, I'm here, I'm fine, Toothless is not going to disappear while your gone-" Astrid took a deep breath, "SO GET OUT AND DO SOMETHING USEFUL!"

That seemed to do the trick of breaking his thoughtful stupor, jolting him as he pushed the frying fishes around in the pan. He looked up at her, she looked down at him; his shoulders drooped as her jaw tightened. His eyes were baggy with fatigue, hers were burning with fierce annoyance. She rolled down to the first floor and rolled next to Hiccup at the hearth.

"How can I teach when I'm distracted?" Hiccup asked, to Astrid it seemed more like whining.

"Think about it, you kept it in _real_ well when you were a kid." Astrid retorted, her undertone screamed "condescending!".

"I'm worrie-" Hiccup started before being viciously cut off.

"Then let it worry, but stop sticking around here feelin' sorry for yourself, and get out there and train some kids!" Astrid hollered before softening her tone and leaning over to give Hiccup a hug "thats for caring about him," she then slammed her fist into his gut with rock shattering force, he crumpled with the blow "and thats for sittin' here like a pansy!"

Hiccup stood up slowly, and silently hobbled out of the house on his squeaky leg. Astrid turned to the fire and flipped the fish in their pan, smiling at her triumph. She could have these little joys now and then; falling off of Toothless hadn't completely disabled her. The clouds had been really beautiful before she hit the ground . . .

(switch)

Gobber sat at his forge, hammering away a broken hay scythe; the first smith work he'd done in ages. As he doused the hot tool in a bucket of water he looked at its long handle and remembered something. _That's what was botherin' me, I forgot to put a fishin' pole in with his supplies. Oops, well that's too bad._

(scene change)

It had gone on for the past few days now: the black thing would waddle into my clearing, give me a fish and make me eat the whole thing raw! It didn't even let me light a fire! Not that I could anymore anyway, my little feud with the gods had left me without the square of steel to light anythin'. I'd tried to stand today, my whole body had given out the second it rose from the earth. What ticked me off most of all was not that I was hurtin', but that I was relying on that dragon to bring me my meals. _I should be able to take care of myself, dangit!_

I'd shooed the thing off a couple of times, but it would never truly leave! It'd just come back with another fish, couldn't it tell that I was getting sick from the raw meat? Whatever, once I'm feeling better I'll get my own fish and cook it to my friggin heart's content; I'd started on a fishing pole, grinding a strong branch against a rock until it was the desired shape and thickness. Twine had become a problem until I found a loose strand in the rope I had been supplied with. Now the only thing was to wait until I was finished healing, there couldn't be more than a few days left till I could stand upright.

(two days later)

Glint came earlier than usual this morning, sporting two fat trout. Yeah, I gave him a name, "it" was just too hard to keep track of; I named him after the shining twinkle that my steel striker made when he had me throw it away. I was determined to find another means of lighting a fire if it killed me!

"You'd better be eating one of those, 'cause I can't take more than one of your slobbery mouthfuls." I joked at him, he just gave me the look of "yeah right, like I'm giving both to you". I just chuckled to myself as he dropped the floppy package into my lap, I picked it up and took a bite without even cleaning it off. It was getting easier to down the iffy meals Glint kept bringing me but I truly missed a cooked meal even if it was _fish_.

Today I was going to do it, I was going to walk out of this dreary clearing and get a blasted fish of my own. I grabbed onto my tree shelter for a quick support and hoisted myself up onto my legs; they wobbled for the longest time before something seemed to lock in place. I took a couple of steps satisfied that I didn't so much as teeter in doing so, Glint eyed me interestedly for a few seconds before snapping up the remains of his meal. I picked up my fishing pole from its hiding place in my tiny shelter, and started hobbling to the beach. I found a rock big enough to sit on and sat, uncoiled a ton of line from the makeshift spool on my pole, and cast my line out into the oncoming tide of the sea. I had baited the hook with fish guts from my leftovers, and already felt a tug on my line.

Two successful casts later, I heard paw-steps behind me. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Glint staring at me in wonder before stomping off. A few seconds later, I heard a resounding snap and more pawing. Hearing Glint breathing behind me, I cast my line while not looking his direction and, to my utter dismay and horror, the stalk of a young palm flew after it; he had chucked a tree at my line! The young tree-wood sunk, tangling itself with my line as it fell through the water's abyss; I could tell seeing as my brand new fishin' pole had caught a miraculously heavy catch and had flown out of my hands and was dragged into the depths below. Glint stared at me, smiling sheepishly, I glared at him, wishing I still had my knife.

-dusk

It was following me, I had screamed at him, stomped and called him useless, yet he was stalking me through the beech forest. I had doubled back, feinted, ran serpentine, even army crawled, but I would hear him rumbling through the trees ten yards behind me. _I liked that fishing pole, now I have to go and take all day to make another one! He should have known that it would do that, why did he do it anyway?_ I thought harshly, then remembered what dad had said to me on one of my first pranks: "You knew he would do that! Why did you do it anyway?". The answer was natural: to make mom happy, to make her smile. What did Glint hope to accomplish by doing something as idiotic as that? Who was he trying to make smile? _Obviously not me!_

I saw a loose stone in my path and kicked it in frustration. I smiled as the hopeless little object skipped into the distance. I picked out another, slightly bigger, rock, and sent it hurtling with my foot. I practiced went around, kicking bigger and bigger rocks, wandering off the path in doing so. I was so absorbed in my rampage of rock punting, that I didn't think as I kicked the biggest rock around which was in fact not a rock at all; it was quite organic. In a split second I was on the ground, being held there by an enormous scaly paw that covered half my torso, and staring into the orange, slitted eyes of my good acquaintance the striped Timber Jack.

My eyes were riveted to its own; taking good note of the blue shiner that was blossoming out from its left eye, presumably the spot where I had smacked it in my blind escapade of rock whacking. I tried to squeeze my way out of its grasp, but what resistance can a cat receive from a mouse? A shriek arose from the woods behind me that steadily gained pitch and volume, I recognized it as the warning that a Night Fury gives before a blast of flame (Toothless had made that sound on one of my crueler jokes).

I was right: a blast of violet flame erupted across the clearing, exploding on the bridge of the Timber Jack's nose. _Ow, that must have hurt!_ I sympathized slightly with the poor dragon, this must not have been his day-pardon, night. Its paw was off me, I was free! Two rolls and a sprawling attempt to get up later and I was up and running across the clearing, as short lived as it was. I turned to look back, the clearing was in a blaze, T.J. (timber jack) was flapping his wings madly, rapidly lifting off the ground in pursuit of Glint. Once it was a good forty feet up, another blue flame cracked at its left shoulder just below the wing, then another blast, and another! Before my eyes the huge dragon fell from the sky like a rock, and the noticeably smaller Glint had done it!

I whooped as T.J. hit the ground near me hard, scales flying with the impact. It was one such scale, a tiny little black thing, that shot past my face brushing my right eye in its flight. Or, at least, it only seemed to brush past. I blinked, startled by the little flash of black that passed my eye, and felt something warm trickling down my face. _I'm crying? _I thought as I pulled my hand up to wipe away the "tears".

Maybe it was the blood that had pooled in my hand the moment I went to dry my eyes, or maybe it was the thin black line surrounded by crimson that ran down my vision, I didn't know; the only thing I _did_ know was that pain was slowly pushing its way into my head. It started as a slow heartbeat like throbbing, then little lances of searing ice stabbed their way through my inner defenses, and now it felt like someone was taking a bread knife and raking it up and down over and over!

Glint appeared next to me, as if by magic, looking at me like he was hysterically sputtering "ohmygosh ohmygosh omygosh, are you alright! what happened; how do fee! Does it hurt! WHAT SHOULD I DO!" as he dodged left and right, trying to find every detail. I was on my knees now, as if the pain were pulling me towards the ground below. _Breathe, just breathe,_ I counseled myself, taking in wide gasps of the smoke riddled air.

"Oh gods-" I whimpered, covering my eye, trying to staunch the bleeding. The agony was mounting into the pounding of a spiked war hammer against my soft eye-flesh, and as such I did the only thing a boy my age would do: I screamed, or shrieked to be precise . . .

**Dun dun dun . . . and this time I mean it!**

**You know how it only hurts once you've realized that you've been hurt? I tried to capture that as well as I could in this chapter. If you liked it, review, I love to hear it. Hate it? then tell me why. Please just give me feedback, it doesn't matter what kind to me, and who knows, your ideas may just get into the plot somehow. I check everyday, so don't worry about not being heard.**

**Karma: Dang you! You had my eye sliced!**

**Me: Don't complain!**

**Karma: Push the review button, I want this man to suffer!**


	6. Care?

**Woot! Thanks for all the reviews! This story has been eating away at the back of my head all night, so here I am obliging it! Read, review, and enjoy! Tell me your thoughts and input, I don't turn away criticism, I enjoy it. **

_italics = thoughts_

**Me: Dare I say it? **

**Karma: He Owns Nothing!**

**Me: SHUT UP!**

**Karma: No! I still have some rights after you destroyed my eye!**

Training had gone well yesterday, the kids were getting good at flight control over their dragons, and Hiccup had found it easier than he thought to shut up the worry screaming in the back of his head; this was the end of the first week. Today's lesson was on the ground this time, and the class was waiting for a few of the stragglers to show up so they could begin. Well, waiting as quietly as teens can be . . .

"So what do you think _your_ dragon's stats are?" a gangly boy asked the shorter, chubbier boy next to him. It was a common question "what are your dragon's stats?", now that thinking had become more of a habit in Berk, children had developed new ways to boast superiority and this was the most common. _Ridiculous_, Hiccup thought to himself as he listened in, _soon enough they'll be bragging over whose dragon has shiniest scales!_

"Change Wing: 7 speed, strength 11-" the plump boy was about to continue when another young man butted his face into their conversation. 

"Hey guys, were taking bets, you want to put one in?" the interrupting teen said excitedly to the two young vikings, who looked at him with blank stares.

"Bet on what?" the gangly one asked confused. This perked hiccups interest, what were these kids betting on?

"On Karma, of course! We're putting stuff in the pot for whether he survives or not. It's great fun seeing what kind of wagers people have put; Boneshod bet his dagger saying 'he aint coming back'" Hiccup stopped what he was doing, trying not to look conspicuous with his eavesdropping.

"A'ight, write me up." gangly agreed, and bet: "I'll eat a fish raw if that jerk lives!"

"Hear hear." Chubby conformed, and the bet man wrote their names down in runic along with their wagers. Hiccup could take it anymore, the curiosity was killing him as he walked up to the stout boy that was writing down the stakes.

"Has anyone bet that he _will _come out alive? Any of his friends perhaps?" he asked, wondering just how good of friends Karma had. The boy just stared at him for a minute before speaking.

"With all due respect sir, Karma doesn't have any friends; they all left when he started pulling stuff on their dragons." he looked at Hiccup as if to say "where have you been?". That was a mental blow; everyone had staked against Karma not because he had no chance, but because they didn't want him to. Hiccup took a deep breath before asking another question.

"Who gets the pot if he doesn't die?" Hiccup asked shakily. The bet boy thought for a minute before replying.

"I dunno, we didn't plan for that."

(scene change)

_Ooh gosh it itches!_ I didn't sleep all night because of that one thing, and the occasional bout of throbbing. The tickly tingly feeling in my eye was insufferable; when I did give it a scratch, the thing felt like I had ripped a scab out of my eye with a butter knife. Glint had stuck with me in my clearing the whole time, refusing to move when I pushed him to go. I had used leaves to wipe up and stop the blood that was trickling out of my eye, a big one was spread over it right now; maybe that was what itched.

I was ripping my piece of leather in hopes that I could make an eyepatch; Glint was helpful, letting me use his claws to cut through the fabric. My plan for the patch was simple: a band of leather that would go around my head like a headband, a piece attached to the headband that would cover my eye, and a piece that would loop around my ear with one end attached to the eye cover and the other end to the band. As you can probably guess, it was a lot harder than I had designed it to be. In example: I had to poke holes with Glint's talons and feed a bit of twine through for each stitch in the fabric, and there were quite a few stitches to be done.

I finished just as the sun came bubbling up from the sea's horizon line, and tied it around my head. It wasn't the best "patch" job in the world, the ear loop felt weird and other little niches, but it did its job of covering my eye. I pinched the leaf that I had put over my eye as a substitute patch and ripped it off like a band-aid, I hissed in pain as little flecks of dried blood fell to the ground. Glint was up and ready to pounce before I knew it, I held up the blood stained leaf wearing the "duh" expression; he only calmed slightly with this, still darting his eyes around with his ears up.

"I'm okay," I tried to reassure him by placing my hand on his shoulder, yet I couldn't figure out why. Why did I want him to know that I was fine? Why did I care that he cared? I've always hated dragons since mom's accident! _So why not you?_

He seemed to have remembered something, because he started nudging me in a direction I couldn't entirely recognize. I right eye ached a little as it moved in hateful unison with my left, looking to find something familiar with where Glint was pushing me. If anyone has ever tried to walk with their right eye closed, I would eat my pelt if they never tripped; I know I did, twice: the first on a fallen tree in my blind spot, and the second tumble was solely on the imbalance of only seeing to the left, both times I was caught before I landed by Glint. _Why did he care?_

We reached the beach, I instantly recognized the rock that I had sat upon while fishing. _So thats it. You brought me here for a guilt trip! _Apparently his scheme was working, I felt a little bad for the way I had blown up after he lost my fishing pole. _Wait, No! Why do I care? I've done so much worse than that, why do I feel all emotional over this! _

It wasn't a guilt trip, I discovered as Glint waddled over to the rock and picked something up with his teeth retracted. He came sauntering back, proud of something as he deposited his mouthful in the wet sand at my feet. It was the fishing pole that had started the whole incident last night, given, it was bent slightly and the spool twine was missing. He looked at me expectantly, his eyes saying "well, what do you think?". I was dumbfounded, this was the first time someone had come back and apologize for something that was more my fault then theirs. As I picked the pole up, Glint looked at me hopefully, his ears rising, his tail beginning to wag.

"Come here ya big scaly lug!" I cried as I lunged in, hugging his neck as he tried to maneuver himself around to lick at my face. For the first time in a long time, I cried while smiling; I didn't care that my eye ached with the tears, it didn't matter that I was stuck here, it didn't even matter that I had hated dragons only a day previous! I had a friend that had stuck with me in a situation that even I wouldn't have stayed, and that was enough for me.

When I drew away, Glint looked at me worriedly while lapping at the tears from under my patch whose water had been substituted with blood. Funny . . . I couldn't feel an ounce of pain, just his tongue wiping away the tiny beads of blood, it tickled . . .

**Yay for short feel-goodness! There is still a week left of Karma's punishment, or even longer depending on whether he can prove he has learned his lesson or not, This Is Not The End! You have read to get this far, so review! Like? Dislike? The details thereof? TELL ME! **

**Astrid: Make him suffer!**

**Karma: Yeah, press the button!**

**Me: When will you learn that I am a masochist for criticism!**


	7. Monster

**Hello, this is the author speaking. The last seven days of Karma's punishment start now, I think that I'll go a little further after that with this story by maybe a chapter or two.**

_Italics = thoughts_

Randomest Disclaimer:

**Me: Karma!**

**Karma: You!**

***both run gracefully at each other before breaking into an intense kung fu fight***

**Random Guy: He owns nothing!**

***both throw balls of energy at him***

Hiccup and Astrid were strolling through the village, or more like Astrid in her chair and Hiccup behind her pushing. It had become too cold to train, so Hiccup was confined to venting out his stress by taking abnormally long walks; the only difference was that Astrid had insisted to come along this time. They had wandered most of the town and were now taking a romantic walk/wheel down the beach just off the pier, though it was at sunrise rather than sunset, because the sunsets were generally colder for some reason. How her wheels could find traction was beyond her.

Astrid was thinking about her son before realizing that that was a very unvikingly thing for a mother to do, then again it was unmotherly for a viking to not at least stew about it. If it was this cold here, she wondered how cold it was on Anglerock isle (Karma's current location). Hopefully nowhere near as chilly; she was having to bundle up pretty heavily just being here, yet Karma probably didn't have anything to do the same but his pelt. She shuddered at the thought of a viking flavored popsicle; Hiccup noticed this and passed it off as shivering.

"You alright? Maybe we should go back to the house-" He started up his worry sprees again, Astrid was getting tired of them.

"I'm fine! Why do you always do that?" Astrid rebuked, she had just gotten out here and didn't want to leave just yet.

"Do what?" Hiccup asked confused.

"This! You get me out of the house for two seconds and now you want stick me back in there!" Astrid playfully shouted, Hiccup wasn't taking it as a joke.

"But you wanted to come out, I didn't force you or anything." He mumbled, downed by his wife's outburst.

"A likely story." Astrid accused, though she was truly just messing with him. Now he was catching on.

"Oh you madam are playing a very dangerous game, playing on this much pure husbandness!" Hiccup was playing along completely, pushing his wife's wheelchair faster and faster down the rocky sand. They crashed in a heap, howling with laughter and rolling about in the sand/gravel; they'd feel that tomorrow.

(scene change)

When I awoke, the sky was still as black as pitch, I couldn't even see my hand in front of my face. _Wow, what a good power nap if I'm feelin' this good before dawn,_ I thought to myself as I sat up. I felt something soft and smooth, yet bumpy, brush along my forehead as I arose. That, coupled with a slight crack of light appearing at the bottom corner of my vision, was what made me realize. _Oh, that's why_, I thought to myself as I pulled Glint's wing off from over me. I the cold air greeted me with a slap to the face and a punch to my bad eye, advancing through my warm tissue in record time. I pulled the wing back over me and huddled up against Glint's belly for warmth, which eventually came. I had seen it this cold, it's not that hard when you live in a place where two days of sunshine is a godsend, but usually had had my coat with me; as it was, I was unprepared for this kind of weather, even my thick brown pelt wouldn't stop the cold.

There was a slight shift in my black covering, and I saw Glint looking at me through the opening he had made. He started to lift his strong membraned wing; quick as a cat, I snatched the edge of it before too much cool could get in and held it down. He snorted at my attempt to stay warm and spread his wings to their full capacity, dragging me across the frigid ground as I held on tight. Now fully exposed to the brunt of the cold, I let go reflexively and started to hug myself in an effort to warm myself. Soon I had to use one arm to cover my eye, which was being fussy and achy over the chill, letting in more cold air to penetrate my torso. My teeth chattered, letting out a blast of fog into the icy morning air. Glint on the other hand, stretched out lazily and yawned like he didn't have a care in the world. I narrowed my eyes at him.

"Your lucky, you don't feel the cold like I do." I said, coveting whatever allowed dragons to stay warm in this frosted weather. I ran in place for a few seconds, trying to get my blood pumping. Glint eyed me like he didn't know what I was doing, yet I knew he'd seen me do it before. _All part of the morning routine,_ I huffed at myself, seeing my breath rise like a smoke. Glint finally got the message that I was cold and apologetically came up beside me, heat radiating from his scales and into my side. _How can he put out so much heat? Was he always so warm?_

No snow had fallen . . . yet, but the clouds gave away the fact that it probably would start to snow . . . or hail. It was quiet this morning, nothing moving, nothing leaving its burrow or cave, everything had retreated from the cold, everything except me and Glint. It was probably a good Idea to find a cave or dig a hole, but the ground had frozen and I didn't feel particularly daring to check for a vacant cave, considering what happened last time I saw a cave; I shuddered at the memory of the cove. Wait! Glint had to have lived _somewhere_ before I met him, maybe he had a cave!

"Hey Glint, where do you live?" I asked him as he purred. It took a second for the question to register, but when it did, there was a flurry of action that I didn't expect. The ground shot past me as the Night Fury grabbed me around the waist and took off in flight, as such I lost any form of calm I had attained before. We barely cleared the tops of the palms, I almost collided with one on our way up. I screamed with terror and vertigo when I got a good look at how far below the ground was getting! _God's above, don't let him drop me!, _I half prayed half wailed mentally.

"Pumedown! Put! Me! Down! Gliiiiint!" I shrieked at the soaring reptile, desperately trying to climb up his foreleg, my legs flailing crazily. The tree tops were now just little models in the distance, I hated to think of what would happen if I fell from here. The wind was chilly up there, dozens of degrees more so than the temperature on the island; Glint held me closer beneath him, almost like a hug. He was gliding down now towards what I could make out as the highland I had tried to find during my encounter with T.J. and the Nadder. I had forgotten about my search after my encounter with the "cave screecher", too late now that I didn't need the high end to see the whole island; I was a lot higher than any ground elevation now.

I guess it wasn't _too_ bad, I had stopped screaming on instinct at least. It was still hard to fathom how high up we were, even though we were gliding down now and still below the clouds, but view was fantastic especially the way the ocean shimmered in the early dawn. We were diving now, slicing through the air at speeds unheard of, Glint clutched me a little closer as if to reassure me. We swooped up at the last minute, Glint landing solidly on his hind legs before propping me on my own. I turned and grinned at him, _that was such a rush! _He looked confused before parting his scaly lips in a toothy smile, the exact opposite of the ones that Toothless would give with his teeth retracted. It was comical, and I had to laugh; I just had to! And laugh I did, filling the trees with my guffaws and cackles. Glint joined in too, not knowing that I was laughing at him, the sound was just too rich for me to ignore. It sounded like this: "Uh-uh-uh-uh-uh-uh". _Haha! This kind of fun beats practical jokes ten to one! Wait, did I just think that? Nononono!_

Our laughter subsided after a good five or ten minutes, until I figured out that it was still freezing out here. Glint nodded in the direction of the cliff and picked me up, gently this time. He jumped off the cliff and parachuted down using his wings; just below the cliff's edge was a deep alcove carved into the stone face. We landed inside, and I jumped off in the same fashion as our previous landing. The depression in the cliff's wall was about nine feet deep, and had walls whose appearance made me question how this cave was made.

We sat in there for the longest time, watching as the sun paraded across the sky until it was a few hours shy of setting. My eye had been holding up great until then, but now the pain was beginning to descend on me again like a shroud and it had started bleeding again. I convinced Glint to take me down to the beach bed, he grudgingly complied, picking me up and sailing lazily down to the soft sand where sea meets land. I didn't find myself particularly glad to have to use salty sea water to clean my eye out, but using dad's evaporation method just takes too long.

I untied the knot that bound my eyepatch to my head and stripped the patch off my face; it didn't hurt too bad so I continued, Glint watching me with a worried expression. I was still mad at the gods for letting the injury happen, but at least they had had the decency to spare my eyelid. From my reflection in the water, a thick, jagged cut ran up from just below my cheek bone to just above my eyebrow. _Chicks'll dig the scar from that,_ I thought bitterly. The blood stains on my face had mostly tracked from the crack-like incision, so that was where I started; I pulled some leaves from my pocket, and dipping them into the frigid water before scrubbing at the stains around my closed eye. It stung as the salt water worked its way into the cracks in my skin, otherwise it was doing a great job of washing the the crusted blood off. I stroked gently at my eyelid, not wanting to awaken the agony that lay dormant, good thing that it didn't have much for me to clean.

"And now for the _really_ icky part." I announced to no one in particular, but Glint looked up anyway. I didn't want to risk tripping some forbidden switch by opening my eye regularly, so I pried it open with my thumb and forefinger instead. What I saw in my reflection, behind that thin membrane of skin, was ghastly! The white of my eye was now a sleep deprived stain of yellow, my blue iris was now a fine line surrounding what I call a monstrous deformation of my pupil! It was freaky looking and unnatural, but the worst of it all was the fact that I could see to my right side now. I could still see with my right eye contorted into a slit! _What could have caused this? Did it grow together wrong? What happened to my eye! _The long awaited snow began to flutter down from its confines in the clouds.

Glint noticed me recoil from the water's edge and scuttled over, his eyes asking "what's wrong?". I covered the ugly eye, it surely wasn't mine, taking in deep gasps of air. Glint was now fully alert that something was wrong, and started nosing my hand away. I closed my eye, wincing at the pain it caused, before Glint could get past the barrier of my hand. I pushed his head away from my own, awkwardly fastening the eyepatch with my free hand. He kept pushing, even trying to nip the patch off, his body language screaming "TELL ME WHAT'S WRONG". I refused to be muscled; pushing back with both hands now, but it was nowhere near strong enough to resist his muscled body.

In no time at all he had me on the ground, his forelegs holding down my arms. Teeth retracted, he softly bit down on my eyepatch and slid it off my face. No fight left in me, I opened my eye; Glint almost immediately recoiled his face, eye's rooted on the monster's slit that had replaced my right eye. He looked ashamed as he took his paws off my shoulders, and I felt ashamed at the ownership of such a sickly thing as I retied the patch back on. We flew back to his cave in an awkward silence, neither daring to look at the other for fear of what the other thought about them. _I'm a monster aren't I? _I accused myself before sleep came; little did I know that Glint was thinking the same thing about himself . . .

**Days of punishment remaining: 6.**

**So yeah, he has a slit for his right pupil now. I like it because it kind of demonizes him, doesn't make him seem so happy go lucky all the time. I have been asked a very good question "is he turning into a dragon?", the answer is sadly no, his eye had constricted wrong while starting to heal, thank you MadMax for bringing that up. A little bit of hurt/comfort at the end there, just adding a bit of lavender spice to the meal. Please tell me your thoughts, whether you hate it, or like it. Constructive criticism is great food for my soul!**

**Me: ||-355 7|-|3 |3\/770/\/**

**Karma: What the crap did you say?**

**Leet filter: Press the button!**


	8. Cheating?

**I have been really busy this sunday and monday, so forgive me if this chapter is a little scrambled and late-ish. Also (this is an important note if you want the story to continue), unfortunately and regrettably, as of this chapter I have run dry on ideas for the last few days of Karma's trials; so if the story is to continue, I will need a few ideas to bounce around inside of my head. Please message or review with ideas, it could just help in the continuation of this story. I have the basic idea as to how the story will end, but am horrible at filling the storyline out before its end. Please help, I will not turn away any assistance I can get! **

**Signed: Ragnarok Emissary**

**Disclaimer: Meh! Too tired to fight it today, I admit a temporary defeat. I own nothing.**

Have you ever had a dream that has enough reality to it that makes it seem real? I'm not the type that dreams often so I wouldn't know, at least until now. The ever so realistic nightmare had started out like this . . .

The aching wouldn't stop! I lay in my bedroom downstairs where Stoic the vast had once occupied, with mom and dad's room above, tossing and turning as the cursed thing throbbed in double time with my heart. For some reason the eyepatch was rubbing uncomfortably over the sensitive flesh of my eyelid, so I had taken it off; that helped relieve some of the stinging. I padded over to the basin of water on my desk near the window and pulled open my eye, wincing as the hardened goop that had glued it shut broke and flaked. The infection was getting worse; the light shade of yellow that the whites had been earlier paled in comparison to the milky puss color that they were now, with bloodshot veins coursing at the outer edges. "The Slit", as I had so named it, seemed sharper than normal, while my iris had only returned slightly.

Tired of waiting for the pain to go away, I decided that I would take a walk; quite an uneventful thing for a dream. I crawled army style across the front room floor knowing that Toothless might catch me, my heat would stick out like a sore thumb if I was standing; I'd figured out that he could sense heat on one of my excursions during deep winter. There are only three seasons in Berk: frosted spring, winter, and then there was deep winter (for those of you who haven't figured it out, the thirds the coldest). The door was already open, a stupid action for anytime of year in Berk, but I used it to my advantage as I got to my feet in the doorway and walked out. It wasn't that cold, a miracle for this time of year, but I wasn't paying attention to that.

Outside there were people with candles and torches, dressed in full viking attire. I felt their hate filled stares as they stood there; a silent mob. I could recognize many of the faces of kids and people I knew back home, why were they all so mad? I saw one such boy that I had known before, he had been so young, one of my first victims of prank. He lifted his torch high and threw it, the flame leaving a tail like a comet as it sailed toward me. I yelped and ducked under it at the last minute, but now the rest of group were throwing their own lights; some were tossing in jeers like "this is for what you did!" and "burn you devil!". _Why is everyone doing this!_

"You've been a little demon ever since you were seven and now you have the mark to prove it!" someone in the crowd yelled, I heard it echo in my head. _How bad of a person was I really?_ I broke away from the flaming pile, wax from the candles clinging to me, and ran back into my house looking to escape out the back door. I slammed through it to find a mass variety dragons waiting on the outside, roaring their heads off; I recognized many of them. They all pulled back their heads, gas seeping out from the backs of their throats, I knew what came next! I ducked back into the house, or at least I wanted to; in all truth I was rooted to the spot. A hundred tongues of flames erupted toward me, surrounding me and bathing me in a bright flare of orange, red, and yellow. There was no pain, and no sound but my heartbeat as the fire blast folded in around and over me. There was a shady silhouette in the midst of all this fire, it looked like a dragon beating its wings and roaring, but the shadow soon was overtaken by the burning brilliance and replaced with a giant, red slitted eye staring at me with hatred. _Demonic child! Monster! Jerk! _The hurtful words echoed in my head, stinging with each syllable.

"No! I'm not that person anymore! I've changed for the better! My past does not become me!" I screamed defiantly into the flame. The burning eye before me closed, the flames receded, leaving me alone in a black void as I fell. Down . . . down . . . into oblivion.

I awoke with a start, sitting up and screaming "I'M NOT THAT WAY ANYMORE!". I looked around, realizing that I was back in Glint's cave; gladly Glint wasn't there to witness my explosion, I didn't want to give him anymore trouble since yesterday. I looked out of the alcove, searching for a possible way to scale the rock wall down to the ground, and realizing that I would have to wait for Glint to return if I wanted to leave. _Get back soon, okay? I don't want to spend the whole day here by myself!_

(Scene change)

Hiccup rode Toothless through the wind, clicking meticulously with his prosthetic in the foot-pedal. Toothless had made a full recovery and Hiccup was dying to know if his son was alive. And if he was alive, was he alright? It had been nagging him ever since he had started Karma on his punishment, and the actions of the village trainees had increased his motivation ten fold. They had been flying for an hour straight and could barely see Anglerock Isle as a speck on the horizon, while Berk was only a slightly bigger speck in the opposite direction. Even Toothless seemed to want to know, and he had been happy to see Karma leave.

They flew on for another hour and a half through the early morning, riding the air currents most of the way, until the island was in sight. It looked about the same as when Hiccup had first scouted it out, except for a meadow that looked charred and ashen. He decided that that would be the first place to look.

"Right there bud." Hiccup said leaning over and pointing so that Toothless could see where, and clicking the pedal accordingly; he had become quite adept at doing so with his fake leg over the past twenty years. They landed in the burnt clearing and Hiccup dismounted, his leg squeaking as he landed on the ash covered ground. They paced around the clearing taking note of everything that seemed out of the ordinary, or more Toothless nudging at things and Hiccup writing them in his journal. Judging from the green and black scales scattered on the west side, as well as some clean cut beech trees, there had been a Timber Jack here. The ashes meant that there had been a fire (no brainer), but there was more than one type of fire damage.

Timber Jacks and Nightmares breath a more liquid form of gas and flame, while Gronkles, Zipplebacks, Nadders, and Night Fury would use a blast of vapor gas in the flame. There was evidence of liquid fire all over the tree bark, a place that can't be burned by a quick rush of flame, and of vapor flame in the leafy branches. So what was the second dragon? A Gronkle or Nadder would be the most likely, but how would it have penetrated a Timber Jacks scales? A Zippleback could do it, but there would be a lot more flame and tons more damage to show for it. All that was left that could take down a Timber Jack with minimal damage to the surroundings was either a species that hadn't been analyzed for combat prowess, or a Night Fury. Hiccup looked around him one more time, trying to conclude if this had anything to do with Karma or not.

It was funny that such a bad habit as looking down at the ground found the final bit of evidence. A slight crater that had been covered in pillows of ashen leaves sat only a few feet away from where Hiccup had been standing, and next to it, covered by a thin layer of fine white powder, was a crystalized spatter of dried blood. Upon noticing it Toothless sniffed at the crusted crimson puddle, before returning to his friend's side.

"Was he here boy?" Hiccup asked, knowing that Toothless understood him well enough. He nodded, Hiccup pointed at the bloodstain and Toothless nodded once more. Hiccup shuddered as he thought of what might have transpired, his imagination running wild with horrendous scenarios in which his son would be mortally wounded. Toothless recognized his worried expression and licked at Hiccup's face in the hopes that it would break his stupor, it worked more or less. Hiccup scratched behind his friend's ears, just where he likes it, before deciding to carry on.

They took to the skies when no more evidence could be found in the clearing, soaring low over the trees so that they could better see. They had found some tracks more towards the center of the island that led outward, the deep stomp type tracks that only Karma could pull off when he was fuming. The tracks had led to a short cliff over a cove and double back twice to signify that he had backed up and ran over the edge; there were no tracks leading out of the cove, but Hiccup was confident that they had just been washed out with the tides. Hiccup was about to see about going down into the cove when Toothless growled and got into position.

"Hey bud what's wrong?" Hiccup asked startled, Toothless didn't seem to be growling at him. _He's looking up_, Hiccup decided and looked up too, what he saw surprised him. A black shadow was drifting lazily across the sky, yet with a sense of direction. Hiccup recognized the general shape as a dragon. _Night Fury, _He concluded before jumping up on Toothless. Night Fury are not _exceedingly_ rare, they just don't travel in large groups and are hard to find because their black and travel at night . . . unless they had a reason to be out in the day. _What's your reason, little guy? _Hiccup asked rhetorically.

(perspective change)

Glint was particularly pleased, the fish had come easily today, usually he had to fly over the water's surface for hours until he could find a fish daring enough to come close enough to the top. The method in which his friend would catch was a lot faster, but he had given up trying to do that ever since he had lost his friend's stick. He had caught his fill and was now headed back with a fat cod, knowing that his friend would need some sustenance. He was tempted to go back to the clearing where he had first found his friend and get his friend's things, but didn't feel like his friend would need them anyway.

A scent caught wind in his nostrils, it was the slightly musty scent of dirty stone, and fish. Glint knew this smell, it was the smell of another of his kind, but there was another scent that mixed in with it; a fragrance of metal, leather, wood, and sweat. These were the same scents from three weeks ago, and now they were following him! Glint hated people that snoop around without just plain asking before they do, and these people had definitely not asked! He needed to be quick; he was going to get in his cave and defend it from there, his friend would understand.

He was almost there, he looped the opposite direction than he would regularly to get into his alcove; this would create a blind spot long enough that he could prepare.

(perspective reset)

This was a rough surprise: here I am sitting in the cave and starting to feel hungry, when Glint comes crashing in and drops a fish for me. Yet before I could grab it, he picked me up with his teeth retracted and stuck me in the back of the cave. I yelped in protest and started to rebuke him, but he urgently pinned me to the ground with his wing and growled toward the cave mouth. I looked out the entrance from my uncomfortable position on the ground to see what Glint was on about. I heard a click and then another; I knew these clicks, dad was here. A black form streaked past the entrance, before looping back and landing on the lip of Glint's cave.

(Perspective change)

Hiccup looked around the alcove from his spot atop Toothless' back, the smaller Night Fury had recoiled to the back of the cave and was now hissing at the pair menacingly. Hiccup noticed that the little guy's wing was draped over something protectively, blocking it from view. The bulge moved! The smallish dragon seemed to struggle to keep his wing down as the thing beneath it struggled to bring his wing up.

"Gods! Glint I can't breathe under here!" a muffled voice echoed through the shallow cavern. Hiccup froze, his back straight eyes trained on the bulge in the dragon's leathery wing membrane. The dragon seemed to understand slightly and lifted his wing slightly as if to say "here's your air, now stay there". Karma's head popped out of the little opening the dragon had made; Hiccup melted with relief. His russet brown hair was a bit messy, but Hiccups main focus was that he could only see one of his son's eyes. The other eye had been covered from the high cheek up barely past his eyebrow with a crude leather eyepatch sewn with rough twine that looked like it had been pulled from a rope, the ends of a scar showing from the top and bottom. Hiccup felt his son stare at him like he wanted to know what he thought.

"I did this to you." Hiccup placed the blame on himself, but he felt his son's inquisitive expression soften into one of his crooked smiles. Karma shook his head, his one eye still following his fathers face.

"You got what you came for, it's cheatin' if you stick around any longer." Karma said playfully, holding out his hand in a shooing motion . . .

**Dun dun dun . . . yeah. **

**There are five days left, and I don't know what to fill them up with, after that I know what I want to write. Please review or Personal Message me with ideas or your thoughts on what could happen in the last five days. I will probably put a spin on ideas to keep the story interesting so don't worry about it being boring. I think it was fun to end the chapter like I did rather than making the story anticlimactic. **

**Karma: what is this?**

**Me: this is an Idea box, do you want to know what its doing?**

**Karma: what?**

**Me: STARVING!**


	9. What is Remorse?

**Hello again, I am writing again now that I have a few ideas going around inside of my head. This is the fifth day, if I remember correctly, of Karma's trial. Enjoy! Review with any thoughts, comments, and/or things that I am a little sketchy on that you would like me to fix. Or message me if you find any of your complaints too profane to see on the review page. **

_italics = thoughts_

**Me: As much as I love HTTYD-**

**Karma: He owns nothing!**

**Me: (stares angrily) Glint, take your friend outside!**

**(Glint comes in, picks him up and walks away)**

**Me: Yeah, thats right! Take that!**

I had was somewhat tolerant of opening my right eye in the morning and seeing just how twisted fate is. The infection was starting to seep out of the corner of my eye in greasy blobs of yellow liquid, which I would wipe out with my large supply of leaves. The pain itself no longer came in quick and infrequent bursts, but in a slow and steady throb like someone had gored me with a spoon and didn't feel like pulling it back out. We hadn't confined ourselves to Glint's cave today; I had energy to burn and nothing but time, besides my eye would have gotten worse if we hadn't come down.

I sat on a boulder at the edge of the shore, staring at the odd reflection my eye gave to my whole demeanor. If I smiled, my whole aura looked evil and mischievous. If I glared, the air around me seemed to hold its breath. Anything I did with my eyepatch off looked dark and sinister! I brushed away at the puss in my eye before strapping the patch back on, and tried my facial expressions again at the water. When smiling, I looked calm and relaxed. Glaring looked just like a regular, plain old malicious stare with no demonic undertone. I dare say that I liked myself better with "the slit" hidden, it just made me feel like a more enjoyable person (weird that I would think that about myself).

Glint came in through the palms, waddling his odd waddle, carrying today's breakfast. He held the fish up to me, as if he wasn't sure where to drop it, and I took it with both hands. It bothered me that he barely ever brought a fish for himself, he'd always come with one and stare at me hypnotically until I ate it. I had used the fishing pole yesterday to catch dinner, but Glint had brought in his catch anyway and seemed genuinely hurt that I was eating my own fish (I never could get a fire going to cook it seeing as I had lost my flint now too). _Crazy thing! What's the difference from the food I get myself and his food he gets for me?_

I took a deep bite into the thick belly of the fish, savoring at the juiciness of the meat,_ Wait savoring?_ The texture was the same, even the taste wasn't that different, the only difference was that now I knew how to move my teeth _just _right to cut through the grain and extract flavors that I didn't know were there. _ Some sort of acquired taste I guess,_ I thought to myself as I swallowed and took another bite, Glint watching intently with those eyes of his (you know what I mean). When I was done I threw the bones and other undesirable leftovers into the sea, before brushing the sand and dirt off myself.

"Come on Glint, let's go do some exploring." I said childishly, there was nothing better to do. I wondered just how much Glint could understand me; he'd never given me a reason to believe that he _could_ understand anything I said, but he seemed pretty darn perceptive to what I was doing all the time. We made our way through the first ring of the island, the outer edge with the palms spread out, and started into the small jungle that covered the center. I was surprised at how big the jungle seemed, the knowledge that this island was only a mile or two around only made me feel smaller.

I was getting pretty good at keeping my balance with only one eye, I could still be better at it but at least I didn't trip on everything now. The trees were rather thick in foliage, I could barely see the blue of the sky shining through the canopy in glimmering little dots. The trees weren't extremely tall, but still tall enough that I had to crane my neck to see their tops. There was only some ground life other than the thick beeches, some yellowish green grass and a few ferns growing at some tree bases, everything else was just sticks, dead leaves, and most of all dirt. I didn't avoid dry twigs like my last excursion; if anything was dangerous here, the trees were wide enough that Glint could probably fly away with me . . . probably.

I should have heard the snapping of sticks, except I was mistaking them for my own foot steps and Glint's beside me. I should have noticed the little growls from the forest, the little groans Glint would give as if to say "come on, lets get out of here". Glint stopped moving, I couldn't tell by sight for he was on my right side, and growled. _Oh hush! _I thought before turning around.

It's funny that a friend will warn you about something before it happens, but a best friend will tell you about it as it's happening; quite a difference between the two. I wasn't exactly scared of Terrible Terrors, they were by no means big enough, but I knew full well what they could do in packs. It was a funny story: the village had run completely dry on rats and mice, the Terrors were known for eating them, so they got really hungry. As a fun joke, I had left dad's boots in the fish barrel overnight and given them back in the morning (I have no clue as to how he didn't catch a whiff of the smell). Dad needed a new pair of boots after that . . . and socks . . .

_This is definitely a big group, _I decided. They were everywhere, the ground, the trees, and any other surface that could hold them! Most where hissing, some even blowing little darts of flame that would extinguish long before reaching the target, and flashing their assorted colors mainly green and orange. They surrounded us like a bubble, never getting closer than ten feet in any direction. What did they want? I didn't peg Terrors as territorial because they never acted as such at home, _maybe it's a wild thing_. Wild instinct or not, it didn't matter because they charged.

A hundred little squawks rang out as the Terrors in the trees dived through the air, while the ground force scuttled into action. Their little nibbles at my bare flesh felt like a thousand blunted needles digging in crescent moon patterns all across my skin. I cried out when one particularly bold Terror latched its teeth onto my nose, others going so far as my ears and cheeks. I flailed my arms madly and was rewarded with a few of them flying off, but the others crunched down harder. Their scaly bodies bounced up and down as I ran around in circles, yelling and squealing like a little girl, trying to get the little buggers off! They weren't even attacking Glint; he was just laying there lazily, and watching with an amused look.

"Some friend you are-ow get off, get-get getoff!" I yelled at the top of my lungs, but the little guys just wouldn't listen! I resorted to swatting now, nocking some of the Terrors, none too gently, off. _Not so tough now are you! I can do this all day and I- _I froze my flailing when I noticed the stares of ones I'd knocked off, almost like they were crying but without the tears. _Don't give me that! You guys brought this on yourselves by attacking **me**! _I thought at them while glaring accordingly; they continued their tearless gaze. Their eyes looked just too darn BIG, like they were saying "we were just playing". One by one the little cling-ons relaxed their jaws and unclenched their teeth, dropping from my body before scurrying away dejectedly._ You guys acting like you didn't expect me to get mad. Learned your lesson?_ It felt weird thinking that. It was almost like my role had been reversed; like they were the pranksters and I was the adult telling them off. I felt sick as I realized that, like a good ol' punch to the abdominals. _Why does it hurt so much?_

I turned and started to walk back to my boulder, my shoulders slumped as I tried to figure out this pain in my insides. It wasn't so much a sharp throbbing pain like something had been cut and was bleeding, it was more of a dull churning within my gut; like I was falling and rising at the same time with a stomach ache and hunger thrown in the blend. It didn't feel good to say the least; it wasn't a pain to kill me but to make me hate living. _What could it possibly be?_ I heard Glint trotting up beside me, _always on my right side what's with that? _

I returned to my little rock on the beach, the fishing pole leaning up against it. I absentmindedly picked it up, and cast hard out into early afternoon the sea. The first catch came with ease, just how stupid were fish? I cast again, letting my mind wander around the wrenching feeling in my gut. Was I sick, then why would I have felt that way the moment those little things gave me that look? I tugged in my line and cast again, a new tug came almost instantly. How much did I hurt them? This must have been the day for fish, because I hauled in another. Glint was starting to watch me curiously as I just kept stewing on the rock, punctuating the end of each old thought by reeling in my catch and casting out with each new muse. I stirred from my stupor at the realization that I now had huge a pile of fish too long out of water to put back. _Me and my sprees! _I reprimanded myself, _What am I supposed to do with all this?_

I offered the fish to Glint and he ate _some_, and I ate _one _for lunch, which left six big, fat cod that neither of us would eat. I hated to let food spoil (a habit of being a viking), but I didn't want to eat much of it either (a habit of being a Haddock). Then a thought dawned on me: if those Terrors had acted so hungry, then they wouldn't refuse some fresh fish. While they were distracted with eating, I would high-tail it back to the beach before they could attack me again. It was perfect! _Now, how to get the fish to them? _I schemed; I didn't have a basket or pack to carry them in, and I sure as heck wasn't going to carry them (too dangerous). I thought back to home, how did the fisherman carry their fish? I remembered them with a board and their fish strung up on it by their gills. _I'll just hang them on a stick!_

Glint's head pivoted to follow my movement as I ran across the shoreline until I found a stick straight and thick enough to support the six cod. I returned with a walking stick sized piece of dark driftwood, and started hooking the fish onto its shaft by flipping out their gills like a hook. By the time I had maneuvered all six of the fish onto my makeshift carrier it was bowing down with weight. I cackled at my cleverness before lifting the wooden fish-holder by both ends, Glint was now giving me the "whatever, your just crazy" look. I gave him the "yeah that's right" smirk and nod, as I sported the fish rack out in front of me as I speed padded through the trees. I made it through the first ring of trees and was now cautiously, yet briskly, sneaking through the mini-jungle, the fish flopping and smacking against my legs as I went.

I made it back to the spot where the previous skirmish had taken place, the tribe of Terrors wasn't there. _Great, their gone! I came all this way, and they aint even here! _In all truth they were there, but I couldn't see them. Only a few scuttled out at first, cautiously strutting across the earth as they wore the best poker faces I'd ever seen (more like game faces because poker doesn't exist yet). I unattached the first fish from my cargo pole and let it thump to the ground a few feet in front of me, and their little big eyes darted from me to the meal. Finally one made a move, an orange and white one, and warily took a bite from under the cod's neck. It chewed like a cat that has too much in its mouth and eventually swallowed, I wondered how that huge rolling bulge would fit inside its stomach, and, as if they were cleared against poison, the other few lunged into a frenzy of action. Before I knew it the whole clearing was full of them, Terrors were creeping out of the woodwork I swear, and scampering towards me hungry vigor. I lost my cool and tipped the rest of the fish out onto the ground; I had planned to get in and drop off then get out, I was in I had now dropped off, and now to get out _really _fast. And leave I did, being careful not to step on the little things, while going as fast as I could. I ducked behind as many trees as possible in an attempt to shake any Terrors that might have followed me, I leaned out on the left side of my current hiding spot, eyeing the open woods with my uncovered eye. None were following me, they were more just squeaking over the fish I had left as a decoy.

I stayed low as I stepped through the woods, not wanting to risk anything seeing me and following._ I don't care how harmless dad says Terrors are after you feed them! _I only relaxed when I reached the beach; Glint was still there, if dragons had eyebrows, his were raised as he watched me slink over and sit back down on my rock. I watched the sun as it sunk across the sky, contemplating the feeling that I had felt after this morning's incident only to realize that it was no longer there . . .

**Sorry my dear readers that there is no split story back at Berk this time, but my mind honestly went blank. Yes, for the first time, Karma has experienced deep remorse if you hopefully have guessed. I've felt like that only once or twice in my whole life, and remarkably it was over similarly simple things. I will not tell you for fear that it will ruin the mood that I have spent so long generating . . . by making you burst out laughing . . . don't ask. However _do_ review, I still am experiencing a slight writer's block and would appreciate an idea of two to fester inside my crazed mind. Mwahahaha!**

**Karma: Gods that didn't feel good at all!**

**Me: well if you don't like it, press the review button.**

**Karma: I can't, I'm fictional!**

**Me: -sigh- will you readers please press the button for Karma?**

**-Glint does his convincing eyes-**


	10. Fun and Foreshadowing

**I'd like to thank those who have PM'd me with ideas for this chapter. Enjoy, and please give me your thoughts for the next three days after this. Thank you!**

_italics = thought_

**Disclaimer: Yeah, you guessed, I own nothing.**

I opened my eyes the next morning to find my world cloaked in darkness; after waking up to the same scene for the past few days before, I knew what was going on. I lifted my hand up in the blackness until it was stopped by a supposedly invisible barrier, but it was really just Glint's wing; you could tell just by the sharp leather texture of it. My hand followed the wing's grain to my left, knowing the slope, as it inclined towards Glint's body. In my shade-blinded state I had to say that I was doing well as I felt around his shoulder blade and searched for the crook of his neck, finding my way right behind his incredibly floppy ears I began to scratch. If anything could wake a dragon besides fish and kiddy grass, this newfound (well, new to me anyway) technique could.

Yup, as proven, Glint woke rather nicely. He stood up with a dragon yawn and started purring like crazy as my fingers continuously raked across his neck. He ducked his head low, giving me more access around his nape, and I obliged vigorously. I ran my fingernails around his collar bone, he was rumbling like a giant cat, and moved upwards below his jawline. His purr was now that of rolling thunder, and I know, 'cause I got to feel the vibration it gave because he had collapsed over on top of me! I thought back to dad's old stories he used to tell all the little kids, distinctly the one with him scratching under Toothless' chin; this must have been the reaction described. Thinking back to my dad's adventures, I pondered life before mom's accident.

They (the other kids) all had made my father their deity, because of the wonderful tales he recounted, always saying "so cool!" and "weren't you scared?". He'd always reply with "of course! Who wouldn't be?" to the latter question, I used to ask that kind of thing every time the village children would gather for a good yarn from him. I used to idolize my dad . . . what had happened? What part about him had I forgotten along the road? He was still the same, maybe I was just looking at him differently. The idea was not exactly a self esteem booster, that I was again the reason that the two of us couldn't see eye to eye-well, eyes to eye. _My fault, why is it always my fault? Then again . . . when did he ever burn the bridges? When did he look out to hurt my feelings? Heh, I guess that's where guys like me excel. Everything I've ever done in life has been wrong._

I was rudely jerked back to reality by the burning realization that with Glint on top of me it was rather hard to breathe. The tooth-rattling rumble that was conducted through my body tickled slightly, which didn't exactly help my air intake at all. Hoarsely huffing at the sensation, I tried to push the mass of pure unmovableness off my body. Apparently only _some_ of grandad Stoic's strength had seceded to me; I wasn't exactly as thin as dad had been as a kid, but I wasn't by any means the "extra-large boy with beefy arms" either, right now I was the "happy"-ish medium of both. Needless to say, I failed epicly as the black napper's body resettled on top of my own. _Oh-crap-oh-crap-oh-crap-ooh-craaap! Dear Woden what a sorry way to go! Hehe, here lies Karma Haddock IIII who was viciously slain by a sleeping dragon! _I mused to myself in mock drama, pushing again at the rock heavy load. _How long until he gets back up!_

It took a remarkably long while for the comatose dragon to regain his consciousness, the sun had risen up from its bed on the horizon, and my legs and lower torso had grown numb with pressure and disuse. There it was, he moved! Again! And again! He lazily got up and pawed off me, giving me a semi-worried look of "what were you doing under me, you know you could have been crushed!". Y_'know, I'm getting pretty tired of everyone giving me that look! I hereby place a ban upon all worried stares! All in favor raise your left hand, that's your right hand dear counselor, _I consulted to the council inside my head, imagining all of them raising their hands. Yes, I admit it, I was getting into the horrible habit of talking to myself, which signified that I was either going crazy, having too much alone time (which really just tied into the first), or just having no one to truly talk to and have them talk back. I mean Glint's a great friend and all, but I could question if he understood me; he doesn't exactly listen to what I tell him.

Morning proceeded in a uniform fashion, which was odd because I am the king of disorder; I would call myself the god of disorder but apparently Loki stole that position . . . darn him. While Glint disappeared off to do whatever he does each morning, I took to my usual perch atop my boulder over the water. I had become an expert at tying and untying knots now, and employed the skill wonderfully as I unfastened my eyepatch. I had also started training myself to look at things calmly, but that wasn't working as well as desired in this situation.

Yellow sticky stuff had gummed up in my eyelid again, it was still moist and fresh; this would be the first to get cleaned. Salt water was now a necessity to my morning ritual of cleaning my-no "the slit", I had no intention of claiming such a thing as my own, seeing as it burns away at the puss goop that crusted up on my eyelid. I cupped my hands together, brought up a hand-bowl full of the salty seawater, and pressed the edges of my hands around my eyed, somewhat sealing the water up against my face. It burned like soap in my eye, but what else was new, it did that every time. When I felt sufficiently stung, I opened my hands up and let the fouled water cascade down my face. _How much worse can this get?_

I rubbed away any remaining snot material, and pried my e-no "the slit" open. A light trickle of milky liquid welled up and out, I brushed it away with my fingers and dipped my hand into the morning tide again to clean them off. The eye-white was no longer a stain of yellowed milk, but had either cleaned out or gotten worse into a purer hue like that of the fish oil we used in our lamps back home. I cringed as the blind range of sight, that which my left eye couldn't see past, was illuminated in bright vibrant colors parallel to my left vision. Apparently my ey-no "the slit" was not completely dead, but there _was_ a thin ridge down the middle of my right vision that looked like a light ripple in the symmetric halves of sight. I didn't think that I would have to do much more cleaning past what I had already done; I thought of putting salt water in my eye, but was not particularly fond of the stinging sensation I knew it would cause. I closed my right eye and examined the scar; the skin had somewhat bound together, meaning that it would _really_ be a scar by the end of this week. _The end of this week . . ._

_That is it! There are three days left, and by the gods I want to do something! _I decided with an iron resolve, I just sat around for most of the time and now I was going to get active, get out, and have some friggin fun! _What to do, what to do, _I pondered to myself as Glint came waddling through the trees with breakfast. My concentration shattered once this morning's fish landed in my lap and would not be regained, therefore I ate to rid myself of the distraction. It was hard to recall what about raw fish had been so bad. Was it the taste? Tastes fine to me. Texture maybe? Once you know what your doing, you can get past even that. Maybe it was just the thought process that makes it so hard to stomach, the idea that you just ate a fish raw and that that's gross. I was sure that was it; you brace yourself to taste something gross and as such only taste what you prepare for. _That makes sense, yeah, I should go into philosophy. No wait! Greeks and Romans use philosophy and we hate them!_

I took the prickly fish bones and the fish guts laced therein, and chucked them out to the foamy waves beyond. My mind could now return to the current, serious matter: What should I do to have a bit of fun on this rock? I got into the classic thinking pose on my rock, one leg draped over the boulder, the other fully bent with one arm wrapped around its knee and the other arm supporting my chin while its elbow rested on the knee. Glint sauntered up next to me and with two legs sat on his tale like a man on a chair. I saw, out of the corner of my left eye, that he was watching me like he was waiting for something.

"Well what do you think we should do?" I asked, annoyed that he was acting all impatient. His eyes moved to the ground in thought, _yeah that's right, you can't think of anything either. _But he _did_ think of something, or at least looked like he did as he started moving. He started by laying down flat on his belly next to my boulder, his front two paws covering over his eyes. He then took the paws off and got up slowly, looking around warily. He started to walk away from my rock, but his composure was different, his legs bent oddly and lifting up too high with each step; almost like he was trying to sneak. He then quickly got back to his first position next my rock, covering his eyes, before darting out into the empty spot where he once stood seconds ago. I was horrible at charades, the other kids knew me by it, they could perceive in seconds what took me hours; we used to laugh about it.

"Hunting?" I asked trailing off at the end. Must not have been, judging by the way Glint angrily jumped up and down like he were screaming "NO, YOU DUMMY". _Well then what? What is it? _I thought while giving a flabbergasted, and blank, stare. He repeated the actions previous once more, jumping back to face me while looking expectant. My head just bobbed in a circular pattern, pretty much saying "yeaaaa-no"; Glint lowered his head and shook it like he were sighing. He repeated his act. _Nope, still nothing . . ._

" . . . Wait-one more time again?" I asked, now completely confused. He growled angrily.

It went like that for about ten minutes; him doing an odd charade, and me utterly failing to comprehend. After Glint added a few new actions, like hiding behind a rock, and I learned to disregard the movements in between acts, the whole thing came together. There where two people interacting one was sitting there with his eyes closed, and the other sneaking away. The first follows the second and-I don't know, think he pounces or somthin'. It took me a moment to dumb it down . . . _Bingo! Hide and Seek! He wants to play hide and go seek!_

"Ooh, got it. Who's hiding?" I asked him after my realization. He nudged me off my rock, pushing me out into the woods. "Okay, okay, _I'm_ hiding! I get it!" I could swear that he had understood what I had asked, either that, or just lucky timing. I looked back at Glint, laying with his paws over his eyes, before jogging through the sand, realizing a problem. _Darn it, I'm leaving tracks!_

I scanned around and found a branch of palm leaves, then scraped it over the indents I had left in the sand. Now the sand didn't look like someone had walked through it, it looked like someone had been dragged across it while flailing. _Yeah, these are totally inconspicuous,_ I thought sarcastically as I dragged my tracks-brush behind me. The first ring of the island was past me, I was now wandering into the jungle. _ Good thing TJ shipped out after that night, otherwise I'd be sooo dead if I went in here._

I stepped down hard on the soil as I entered the greener part of the island. Satisfied that the indent it left was by no means visible by quick speculation, I ditched my brush and sped up. I tried not to breathe too hard, I knew what dwelt within the trees; one wrong move and the Terrors would be on me like mosquitoes. _Where to hide, _I asked myself, _or more importantly, where would a dragon look. _I was sure that if I wanted to hide from a dragon I would have to think like a dragon . . . _except I don't know how a dragon thinks! _I wandered through the trees, taking note of anything that could hint at a dragon hiding inside; I didn't want to find myself in another situation like the last few times I came through these woods. My breathing was getting a little ragged, I needed a place to stop.

I found my way to a clearing with a large rock at one side, I decided rest up against the boulder. As I leaned there I noticed something shining in the grass, the morning sun glinting off its sharp edges. I leaned over and picked up the sparkling object, recognizing it instantly. It was my knife, dirty and a slight tinge of rust blooming around its edges, but the design was unmistakeable. _How had it gotten here, _I asked, looking around once more. I recognized this clearing, my encounter with the Nadder took place here; that must have been why the blade was here! I looked around some more, my eyes finally resting on another shining object; that must have been the hand-axe. I picked it up as well, completely distracted from my current task of hiding, and started walking.

Through the woods in a straight, indefinite direction, I was sure that I would find the shore eventually. And I was right, after the ground inclined for a while I found myself standing at the cliff's edge; looking along the ridge, I could see where Glint and I would usually jump down from to get to his cave. I looked up; the sun had reached its highest point already, bathing the island in hot summers light. I looked the north (I had learned that you could locate it if you used the sun), as usual, there was a massive cloud bank foreboding a storm in Berk. I was privileged to be only_ eleven _days north of hopeless, twelve would have put me smack-dab in the middle of that weather. I looked around me once more, checking to see if there were any signs of life around me. Confident that there weren't I brought the knife back in my hand, coiled up, and threw the little dagger out into the open air past the cliff. I hefted the hatchet next to my head and sent it twirling in mayhem over the edge, watching its little glints coupled with the knife's as they plummeted towards the deep blue. I felt relieved when they sliced into the water, never to be used or seen again. _Not my problem anymore._

Relieved of my distraction, I turned and faced the jungle. _Lets get our game faces ON! The true hide and seek begins _now_!_

(View switch, lets see what Glint's doing shall we?)

Glint had decided that he had waited long enough, he had taken his paws off his eyes a long time ago and now was fully ready. His friend had probably found a hiding spot, and now he would have the pleasure of tracking him down. He didn't plan to fly in this game, that would make it too easy, no he would walk this once. He had found the first trail to follow, his friend's tracks in the sand, leading inland. Glint walked carefully along the footprints, expertly finding his friend's scent laced in. He followed the trail until it changed from footprints to plowed dirt, still smelling his friend among the scribbled ground. He wove serpentinely around the trees following the prints every step of the way, and soon found himself standing at the mouth of the jungle; the tracks ended here, but "his" scent remained.

It was completely up to Glint's sense of smell now, every whiff would bring him closer to victory. Confidently, he padded onward.

An hour had past, and Glint hadn't even caught sight of the boy. The scents had just become too mixed up, with so many pathways of the same smell it was hard to identify which one to follow. Glint wanted to catch his friend and do something else, this was just too frustrating! Was this boy really even a viking? A true viking couldn't sneak and shake tracking so well, this one must have been the unholy offspring of lightning and death itself! Fast as lightning, and silent as death. Glint was thoroughly convinced that his friend was a master in the art of running and hiding. He growled angrily, where was the right string of smell!

An orange Terror chirped up above, its tone rude and patronizing. Glint gave a light roar, followed by growls and guttural sounds. Now to an average man this sounded just as it was previously described, but to a dragon this was like a casual conversation. The Terror had said "looking for something?" and Glint had replied with "Yeah, you got a problem!".

"No need to get rough Mr. Runt of the clutch!" Terror bantered with a few caws and other noises. That stung at Glint's pride; he had been the smallest as a hatchling, but he was still a Night Fury! "Anyway, if you looking for the Runner, he last went that'a way." the Terror continued, blowing a tiny speck of flame in the direction.

"Thanks for nothing, small fry!" Glint growled/roared back as he took off in the new direction. He knew that the other dragons were just teasing him because of his size, but it still hurt. He was sure that none of them truly hated him . . . except the Timber Jack, but _he_ left.

"No problem runt!" Terror squawked back. Glint could taste the scent, it was a notch fresher than the others riddled around, "he" was close and "he" was about to lose at this game. He loped through the woods, bounding quickly, only stopping to check the scent. It was fresh, but it doubled back and swirled around _way_ too many times for Glint. The source was sooo close! He leapt into a clearing, and caught sight of his quarry. His friend had frozen, face blank in surprise, a foot still off the ground in mid-stride. Glint narrowed his eyes and lowered his body nearer to the earth, preparing to pounce.

He shot at the boy, aiming to catch him then an there! It was like magic to Glint, one second the boy was there and the next he was gone! Glint darted around the clearing, scanning to find his "prey". There he was, running like a madman past the trees, crashing through the undergrowth like it was air! Instincts kicking in, Glint leapt after him.

"Oh, nononononoooo! You've found me but you still have to catch me!" He screamed through the jungle, his feet dashing through the dirt. "WHOOOOOAAAAAAAA!" He yelled as Glint began to close the distance between them before pulling more speed out of his body. His burst of energy was short lived, for Glint propelled himself forward in one last blast and caught his friend with his scaly front-legs. They both hit the ground and skidded to a halt, flecks of dirt flying. Glint got up, slightly dazed, and checked himself for injuries. Things were slightly banged up but not broken. His friend tried to push him off, shoving lightly at Glints chest and face.

"Okay, okay, you win! Peace! Get off already!" He submitted verbally while still trying to free himself from Glint's grasp. Glint decided that he was comfortable where he was and that he'd just take a quick nap. He repositioned himself only slightly, not allowing his hard caught quarry to escape. The boy still struggled, but only for a few minutes, and then he mellowed out, trying to make himself comfortable as well. He rolled onto his side and Glint draped a wing over him.

(View reset)

I couldn't truly sleep the whole time that I was stuck there, I could only doze. Something felt wrong in my leg, like the muscles were too tight. When Glint finally woke back up and lifted his wing, I could see that the sun was already climbing down its ladder on the horizon. He finally got off of me, and I started to get up. A burning ache ripped through my right ankle, I must have sprained it during the fall, that must have been what was wrong! I hissed in pain as I propped up on my left leg and tried putting pressure on my right, I wasn't going to be walking anywhere on my own anytime soon. Glint took notice of my pain and walked over to my right side, giving me something to lean on.

He stuck around as my crutch the whole way back to our cliff, it amazed me how caring he acted. Leaning on him for support, I looked out over the sea once more. In the sunset, I saw a silhouette; not a dragon, but a ship. We parachuted down into Glint's cave, and I looked out again; it was still there. _They can't be coming to get me yet! There's still three more days!_

If only the ship's reason for being here was that harmless . . .

**Dun dun dun . . . and the plot thickens . . .**

**First of all, the ship at the end is not a viking ship. That alone illuminates the foreshadowing. I would once again like to thank those who have given me ideas, more would still be appreciated, but now I have a plot for at least one of the last three days. Please, my dear readers, review with thoughts.**

**Me: Do you know what is to come?**

**Karma: No?**

**Me: Me neither.**

**Karma: Will someone please press the button!**


	11. Darn Romanesse!

**This chapter is somewhat like the ideas that people have given, with a little Rhett-flair thrown. There is real latin used in the following, if you think really hard, you can guess why. Read and review please, there are only two days left and I would like to end the story on a wonderful note. It is actually rather funny, today I bought a viking style sword at a boutique and found out that it is made with crappy pakistan steel. Lucky me.**

**Disclaimer: I'm too broke to say that I own HTTYD. *cough* Those stingy . . . *cough cough*.**

I didn't sleep much that night, and who would? If I was brought back to Berk now, then what would happen to Glint? I didn't think that he would want to come with me, that would just restrict him more. I had pondered and thunk it out over and over until the sun came up, and the world began to wake. Glint didn't seem so worried, but he probably didn't know what was going on. I _carefully _scratched behind his ears to wake him; it worked, but he seemed to want more after words. I continued to scrape my fingers across the back of his neck, he purred delightedly. _I don't want to lose this . . ._

Thank goodness that Glint had brought my things; I had wetted a strip of leather and letting it shrink into a brace around my currently bad ankle,_ not too bad, it works_. What I really wanted to do was figure out why in Thor's great beard were they here early! Yet, at the same time I dreaded to go and ask. _What if they take me back on sight? I wouldn't be able to say goodbye, _the possibilities were endlessly streaming out of my mind, imagination warping reason. Vikings weren't known to think hard, let alone think soundly, but with as much free time we have nowadays we kind of picked up on it. I stopped scratching Glint's nape and scooted myself over to the cave mouth, putting as little pressure on my ankle as possible. I looked out long and hard across the sea before me, then down to the island's shore. Nothing, not even a sun-bleached sail, stood out inside my surveying eyes. _Maybe it never happened . . . maybe I'm just thinking things up . . . there was no ship . . . but it looked so real . . . no . . . just my imagination, my mistake. _I thought to myself, though not really convinced; there was still another half of the island shore that I couldn't see and didn't want to.

"Alright Glint, 's time to get up." I urged halfheartedly, _I don't want to lose this. _Glint stretched out and yawned, his teeth showing out in the semi-dark alcove. We flew out from our stony surroundings, greeting the morning view with morning vigor . . . yay. I could've looked at the other half of the island from our high vantage point, but lifted my eyes to the sapphire skies instead. _I don't want to lose this,_ the message echoed inside my head, a resounding resolve that wouldn't be ignored. We landed in our usual clearing on the beach right next to the cliff's bottom, the stony walls rising majestically to our left and bathing us in shade. I took to my rock overlooking the tide, peeling off my eyepatch and looking into the water. I got to work cleaning out "the slit". The only good thing that I could say about the whole process was that the ridge in my right sight had cleared. Tired of the tedious ritual I splashed salt water in my face, savoring the burn it gave, before wiping away the stickies and retying my eyepatch.

I stood from my rock and turned, expecting to see Glint sitting there watching as my sentinel. He wasn't there, but recalling that he usually left every morning calmed me. In a few minutes he would come bounding into the clearing with a fat fish for breakfast, I was sure! I stood, waiting for a sign of his return; footfalls, a rustling in the palms perhaps. But he never came, not a sound nor sight to testify of his arrival. _Where had he flown? What could he be doing_? The pit of dread in my gut deepened with each passing second, gnawing its way into my very soul. I waited for the better part of an hour, unblinking, unmoving, just waiting. Tension blanketed the atmosphere, the clearing was full of sound yet void of it at the same time.

_Something's wrong, _I decided bluntly, the wait was not the issue but rather the mood. The trees were too silent, the air too dense like trying to breath through a straw, the vibe of the world had changed if only for these few moments. I blinked, my immovable state beginning to wane. I twitched my fingers in anticipation, the adrenaline beginning to prickle up my back. Before I knew it the trees were flashing by as I ran, my feet lifting high to avoid any snags that could trip me. I perceived my surroundings only as they flurried past, barely giving me time to maneuver around choice obstacles. _Why am I so stupid? I should've looked the second I touched ground! _I screamed at myself, hating my decision to play dumb and pretend everything was alright. My breath stung at my lungs, but I refused to stop! All of the sudden the trees opened out into the widespread palms before the shore, I was now on the other half of the island.

I stopped dead in my tracks at the monstrous boat before me. It was _huge, _must have been at least two hundred feet long! The design was outlandish and weird to me, the hull was curved widely on the top and thinly at the bottom, similar to viking design but not as rough. There were two sails, one small one at the bow-sprite and one super big one at the ship's center, both were red and white striped. The curled scroll-like design of the ships two ends, as well as the sleek oars sticking out of the sides like a centipede, confirmed my suspicion. Roman, I'd heard the folklore of their ambitious conquest, this was one of _their _boats!

I ducked behind a tree, realizing that I was out in the open. I peered out from my hiding place, _Where are the Romans? _I got my answer, jumping about five feet as a shriek rang out. The roar had resonated to my left; I turned, and in the trees I saw what made my heart sink. Men in plated suits of armor, wearing helmets that looked like red horse manes, were dragging the struggling and screeching figure of Glint towards their ship. I winced in sympathy, Glints wings and legs were tangled up in weighted nets and these men didn't seem to be pulling gently. Glint thrashed out again, kicking one of the Romans to the ground; the fallen man, of course, didn't like that and unsheathed a sharp looking sword.

"Inquam neco drache!" The sword hefting Roman screamed indignantly, waving his sword angrily. _I have absolutely no idea what he just said!_

"Jurar, quieto. Imperator egenus instruo drache equitus!" another Roman with a nasty scar down his forehead gibbered. I was now completely confounded, what were they saying! Why were they here? What are they doing? _Just let Glint go! He's done nothing to you! _"Tamen," the scarred man continued, sneering evilly "possum misfacio inculpatus."

I didn't know what was said, a joke maybe, because the other Romans started to grin devilishly. _It wasn't a joke_, the men began to circle around Glint's incapacitated body. The man with the sword sheathed it before lifting his leg and slamming it into Glint's side, _Definitely not a joke! _They all joined in, laughing their evil Roman laughs as they started kicking at a helpless Glint. Every thud of their armored boots rang heavily in my mind and heart, every cry from the helpless Glint made the rage swell savagely. Their condescending cackles were ticking me off, _I'll shut them up! I'll make them hurt!_

"I'll send you all to hel!" I screamed while hurdling through the trees toward them, the only thought in my mind was "VENGEANCE!". For a semi-scrawny half viking half fish-bone, I hit pretty hard. I rammed myself into the first Roman, he crumpled back in surprise, the rest of them were not as easy. I had the element of surprise for about ten seconds, in which I bashed the downed man unconscious and gave another one a nice nosebleed, but I was an untrained viking versus five . . . four combat seasoned Romans; not the easiest fight to win. I pulled out the knocked-out one's sword and hefted it at one of the remaining Romans. In four seconds I was on the ground, pinned by a metal plated boot and the Roman therein. I looked and saw Glint beneath his nets giving a mournful and hopeless look, howling sadly. _Don't give me that Glint, it's not over yet . . . _

They were kicking me now, their armored legs showing no mercy. Every hit was a hammer fall, the pain echoing through me like spiderwebbed cracks of glass. I closed my eyes erecting mental defenses against the driving footfalls, a stray kick landed on my bad eye sending my mind into agony overdrive. I writhed on the ground, shielding my eye with my hand and feeling the warm blood flowing from it. _So this cruel joke is how it ends. The misadventure of Karma Haddock. No . . . NO, this is not how it ends!_

I caught the scarred man's foot mid-flight and twisted like my life depended on it, and was rewarded with a satisfying crack. He screamed in agony and fell back, one of his associates hysterically jabbering in Romanesse. I had gotten up on one knee before I felt the wind being knocked out of me once more, a crack of my own resonating out as pain lanced its way into my torso. I doubled over in agony, my vision pulsing blacks and blues, it felt like sharp splinters were jabbing under my skin. With two down and one tending to them, there were only these last two Romans to deal with. I tried to stand, my back arching in pain, another crunching WHAM to my back reintroduced me to the sandy earth. The darkness was closing in fast, and Glints shrieking roar was the last thing I heard before the shadows took me completely . . .

(time hath passed)

-night

My body felt very sore when I came to, my arms were tied behind my back my pectorals and shoulders felt really tight and tender. My legs were free, but felt just as bad as though they had been tied. I took a deep breath, big mistake, the deep gouging sensation set alight in my chest. One of my ribs must have broken, that must have been it. I lifted my head to look around and my eye started throbbing with the movement, they must have reopened the scar too. _Those Romans!_

I was in some sort of brig, the ceiling low and the floor strewn with dirt and hay. Across from the wall I was sitting against was a crisscrossed barricade of steel bars, their sheen dim and rusted from the sea spray. I pretty much figured that I wasn't going to leave anytime soon. I spoke too soon, because a train of footsteps clunked down the hallway beyond the bars and into my vision sight came some burly Romans surrounding a gangly man. The thin man had a crooked nose and slightly curly hair that hung down, his face was currently contorted into a smile. Keys rattle and the barred door swung in on its hinges, two of the beefy men accompanied the skinny guy. _If your planning on blabbering to me in Romanesse then you can just leave!_

"Welcome to our humble abode dear little viking." he spoke, perfectly understandable, and with a tone that got my blood boiling "You tried to free the drache that we caught fair and square. You savages are all the same, you steal what others have rightfully taken. What did you hope to accomplish? Were you scouting out mounts as well for your tribe? Hardly civilized for them to send a boy to do a man's job." His condescending tone screamed "Punch me! Punch me!".

"Mount hunting?" I asked, confused at what the Romans were talking about. _They couldn't possibly be trying to . . ._

"Why of course, the emperor wants a new battalion of winged cavalry. You cheeky savages think that you are the only ones capable of bending the drache to you will? Albeit it is a _tiresome_ process, you uncivilized ones must have no better use for your time." _this jerk just keeps rambling, _I thought to myself as he finished. I molded the words around in my head, trying to give him the most insulting comeback that he'd ever hear.

"So the republic of Rome has fallen, your legends of equality and fairness, what a joke. You bleat and squeal of our inferiority, while you yourselves are just dogs barking over what's left. And you have the gull call _us _savages." I said smiling sweetly, he didn't take the joke so well. Sharp pain resounded through my body as his knee connected to my gut.

"I . . ." he started, huffing in anger "can have you killed at a seconds notice, you are just trash!"

"The weaker the dog the louder the bark," I replied with a warning tone, before remembering "take me to Glint."

Mr. Scrawny slowly regained his composure, "Take him to the drache, then make sure he dies painfully." he said more directed at me, before repeating his orders in Latin. The two burly Romans grabbed me by my arms and dragged me out of my cell, down the hallway and up a flight of stairs. I was shoved and pushed to a small cell with bars twice as thick, they unlocked the door and tossed me forward. Along the way my bonds had been cut, so I used my freed hands to steady myself on the hay-strewn floor. In front of me was Glint chained at each leg to the floor, a strange harness strapped around his head and ears that looked to clamp his mouth shut; his wings were the only thing free to move._ What have they done to you!_

I limped across the floor, my sprained ankle screaming in protest. Glint eyed around scared before returning his gaze to me. I threw my arms around his neck in a sore hug, the hopelessness overcoming my emotional dam. "So this is how it ends," I started hoarsely "no survival for me," I scratched a bit behind his ears, he groaned happily "no freedom for you. It turns out that neither of us can get what we want." my hands found their way to the collarthat laced around his head, keeping it shut, there was something protruding from the area to the side of it. My hands found the deformity and I realized what it was, it was loose a scale sticking out of Glint's neck. _Sorry, _I thought out to him as I pulled the scale out, keeping up the mirage that I was still scratching his neck. I could testify to the sharpness of dragon scale edges, my eye was proof, so my idea wasn't that hard to think up. I sliced the scale across the leather band of Glint's restraint, pretending to be giving him a rub down on his neck, and was happy to see a little cut mark where I had sliced.

". . . No great escape. No master plan." I said a little less convincingly as I sawed through the band around Glints ears "It's our fate that this ends, then fate willing," the band split with one last slash "we'll end it right!" I yelled before tearing the strange headgear from Glint's face and hurling it at one of the two guards at the door. His face caught the contraption quite nicely; they both broke into bouts of yelling in latin, but were soon silenced with a blast of blue flame from Glint. I scuffled over to the guards bodies, finding his keys before running back to Glint. After a few seconds of trial and error I found a small key that fit into his shackles and started twisting for dear life, begging the gods to slow any reinforcements. Click! The first iron manacle clanked to the floor, Glint started to growl excitedly while I began my work on the second leg.

Click! Click, Click! Glint was free! He shot out of his holding cell like he was possessed and started thundering down the walkway, roaring as he went. I pitter-pattered after him, trying my best to keep up in my current condition. A few halls and ladders later we were on deck, where dozens of Romans were running around and grabbing nets. _Your not getting him again! _I decided, Glint must have agreed because he spat out several bolts of blue flame at the netters. More started to close in, too many for Glint to blast at once. They encircled us like birds of prey, slowly closing the gap.

"Glint, lets go!" I told him, he seemed to lose some of his ferocious composure at he sound of my voice. The Romans charged in with their nets and hooks, but we were already away; flying into the night's black cloak, letting it shroud us in safety. We had just cheated fate!

**Dun . . . dun . . . duuuuuuun . . . Yeah, I'm too tired this morning to write further, besides this chapter is about one day like all the others. **

**Sorry I took so darn long to write this one. Stay tuned for the last two days! Please review, I love constructive criticism. If you want to know what the Romans said in the first half, please ask and I'll add it to the end notes in ideographic english. If there are flaws in the latin writing and you so happen to be a latin speaking guru, then please tell me and help me rectify it.**

**Me: The tension's killing me!**

**Karma: Yeah yeah whatever.**

**-Glint takes a stick and writes "press the button!" in the sand-**


	12. Master Plan pt 1

**Hi again, this is the writer speaking. Thanks to a culmination of ideas that people have given, I am pleased to say that the story now has a plot for the last two days. Any other thoughts or interactions that you would like me to squeeze in are still appreciated. This story is slowly reaching its close, a couple more chapters after this one and I will be satisfied to stop writing for a short while. **

_italics = thoughts_

**Disclaimer:**

**Me: Gatekeeper, I have come from afar to claim HTTYD as my own!**

**Gatekeeper: Hold on I'll go check, (goes of and comes back), they said no.**

**Me: NO? STAB!**

We stayed in the air all night, hovering and gliding in circles above the clouds, confident that no one would be able to see us there. How Glint had remained awake and alert enough to remain in the sky was a mystery to me, he had probably had the least rest out of the two of us. The moon was spectacular to see from above the misted clouds, its shimmering light cascading down to the world like silver water down a cataract. That was probably what had kept me up, it was just too dang bright to ignore! Even in my spot hugged underneath Glint, the moonshine just bent around his black form and found its way to me. It's a remarkable feeling being relaxed and ready to sleep, but kept in a twilight-like trance instead of the timeless state of unconsciousness.

By the time that the moon, in all its glory, had capsized and sunken under the horizon we were so tired that Glint would nod off for a few minutes and I would wake him up when the ground started to overtake us. Eventually we both fell asleep, and without someone to wake him up Glint plummeted out of the sky. I felt the water first, being the one closest because of the way Glint would carry me when we flew, its sharp knife-like fingers slapping me awake the second we made contact. The sharp inhale from such a wake up call stung and stabbed at my broken rib, and what was worse I started coughing. Glint freaked out as soon as he began to submerge, his bluish eyes roiling about, his rapid movement spraying droplets of seawater everywhere including my own sputtering form. _Don't tell me that he doesn't know how to swim!_

"Easy bud, calm down, y-you just have to keep your head above the-" I was cut off in my blubbering by a huge splash from Glint's wing. I spat out my mouthful of salt water and shivered, the water was way too cold. It was hard trying to keep enough air in my lungs to stay afloat without hurting setting my chest on fire with pain. _Those darn Romans! _The cool was beginning to ebb, or more like I was getting used to it, hopefully Glint would warm up to the water too. After several volleys of splashing Glint seemed to do just that, relaxing his body and floating relaxedly in the water._ Maybe he can swim,_ I thought as I back-stroked over to him. _but doesn't like water, _the thought of it reminded me of myself; I considered the water a necessary evil, but never actually considered it fun to be in.

I looked around, searching the dawning sea for the island that we had just escaped from. There it was, jutting out barely over the waves; no wonder it was uninhabited, nobody could find it from a distance. I scanned for the outline of that Roman tub docked on its edge, finding its red and white sails almost instantly. _What are we going to do about them? _

(scene change)

The sun had risen in Berk, acting as a testament to the fact that the world hadn't ended. The usual morning monotony proceeded in classic Berk fashion. The Terrors skittered around, trumpeting to the sun's arrival. Nadders, perched on rooftops, hopped from their spots and migrated to the feeding bowls. Vikings, young and old, strode to the town hall for breakfast. This wast the average morning here. Hiccup strode to breakfast too, leg squeaking with each step, Toothless keeping in stride beside him.

"Hiccup." an older viking greeted him as he strolled past, nodding to Toothless as well. They had been out of the village early today, therefore the Haddock home was on the way, so Hiccup decided that he would go to walk Astrid to the hall as well. The two friends made their way to the largest house in Berk; formerly the quarters of Stoic the vast, but now the living space of his son and daughter-in-law. Astrid was already on the porch, sitting in her chair and looking out into the southern skies.

"M'lady, would you give me the honor of escorting you this fine morn?" Hiccup called out chivalrously, flaring his hands out as he bowed. Astrid giggled as he wobbled, trying to remain in his pose and failing miserably.

"The pleasure's all mine good sir." She playfully replied, reaching out her hand for him to take. Side-by-side they went to breakfast, the constant tap of his metal foot giving pace to the melodic squeal of her wheels while Toothless' steady rumble gave the accompaniment. With the three of them, life was almost complete . . . almost. This orchestrated walk was missing a key player, but this bit of spice would be back in two days; Hiccup was sure of that.

(Scene change)

The idea wasn't totally unreasonable; since the ship was too big to fry with one dragon, we'd just get more. Glint was actually quite fast in the water, his strong wings propelling us forward at velocities a sail boat would kill for. We'd dive every so often to keep from being spotted, like a moving black splotch wouldn't be sighted immediately. Other than the one objective I had thought up there was no plan; can you imagine me, the schemer, having no scheme?

We were only a few hundred yards off the shore now, the Roman ship safely obscured behind the tree cover. After a few more wing-strokes we struck ground, sand clinging to Glint's wet scales as he pulled himself onto the beach. Everything felt so heavy since I was positively soaked. I slid off of his back just as he started to shake like a dog, trying to getting the water out, spraying water and flecks of sand all over the place. When he was done I gave him a quick scratch behind the ears, then cupped my hands on either side of his face and stared into his eyes.

"Glint, we can't do this alone, I want you to go get your buddies and we'll meet back here when you do." I said slowly and commandingly, looking intensely into his eyes. He made no move, staring back with a questioning face and moaning.

"Go Glint, I _know _that you can hear me!" I said again, this time he shook his head. _Good, proof of understanding, _I thought before trying to convince him further "Go on! I'll be right here when you get back!" _. . . probably, _I mentally added. He got the point, giving me one more worried glance before scampering off into the palms.

I sat down, waiting and scheming, plotting out the plan and trying to convince myself that we could win. It was in my thinking pose that _they _found me in, four ironclad romans armed with shields, hooks, and nets. Surprise, mingled with fear, arched up my spine as I looked up at them. One screamed out some garbled line in latin and they all charged, raising their hooks like spears and twirling their nets like bolas. I screamed out something incoherent too as I picked myself up in record time and started to run away from their threatening presence. I kept to the beach as I sprinted in my waterlogged clothes, hoping that by some luck the gods would lift the sea up to swallow my pursuers; so far no good. _Gods, your never around when I need you!_

As I galloped down the beach it turned sharply inland, looping around into a cove. Before I knew it my legs were tangled up awkwardly in some sort of contraption. I slammed face-first into slightly rocky sand of the cove, pain shooting holes through my right eye the second it connected to the ground. Dazed, vision blurry, I looked to my feet; I guessed that one of those Romans had thrown his net, but couldn't see well enough to find all the snares and tangles laced around my legs. Just as my vision cleared I felt a heavy weight crunch down on my chest, my broken rib shrieking in protest. I flailed my hands around, grappling at anything that they could find purchase. It didn't seem to affect the Roman stepping on top of me much, he just pressed down harder!

An eternity passed in seconds to my eyes, the booted Roman remaining stout and firm in holding me to the ground. The ache of my rib had receded only a little, and my eye had become docile once more. The muted puffing of new footfalls in the sand caught my attention, getting closer and closer. Seconds later I was looking up to the face of a man that I would have rather not remembered, Mr. Scrawny Roman leered at me with his high and mighty composure. I lifted my hands in an attempt to wipe that accursed smile off his mug, but was swiftly reminded that I was pinned by Mr. Boots.

"We meet again savage!" his patronizing tone was ticking me off already "Your stubbornness becomes you, a truly wise man would have turned tail and ran by now. And where is your mount, I assume you brought it back as well?"

"Don't talk about Glint like he's a thing, he's a greater person than you will ever be!" I yelled, or tried to anyway; it was kind of hard with Boots' boot on my torso. Skinny just sneered and started to walk in a circle around my floored body. He turned and kicked me in my side, right where he knew I was injured, and I hoarsely yelped in pain.

"But it _is_ just that! A tool, a mount, just as the horses we ride and the sheep you cultivate. There is no him, just _it_." he sounded like he was trying to prove something, like talking to a three year old and trying to tell them that trolls don't exist; it's impossible because they do! "So then, where is it? Where did you hide it?"

"Can't tell you what I don't know." I wheezed matter-of-factly, that was when he kicked me again "He's not my possession -cough- . . . I don't know where he is."

"Well if its not _yours, _then we'll happily take it off your hands." he bent down low, giving me a front row seat to watch his crooked teeth chatter. _Don't you get it!_

"Have fun catching him again." I smiled when I said that. He kicked again, I could taste the metallic flavor of blood in the back of my throat, but other than that I couldn't tell that he had hit me at all.

"We're done here." he said flatly before issuing some orders in latin. Rough hands gripped me hard and dragged me to the water's edge in the cove, I knew what was coming. I took one last breath of air before the strong hands shoved me below the surface and held me there, trying to drown me. _Oden, help me get out of this!_

(scene change)

Breakfast had went along nicely, Hiccup had had a wonderful conversation with his wife and a few of his old friends, and now they were preparing the ship to leave this evening. If they left tonight, they would arrive on the last day; that's how Hiccup figured it. The ship's larder was filled with fish, dried lamb, and anything else that a viking could want to eat. Right now they were prepping the sail, mending any little tear that could be found on its tan surface. A small group of youth sat on the grass hill overshadowing the docks, watching the ship's preparations anxiously.

"So you really think that he's gonna live?" one had asked as Hiccup and Toothless lugged a load down the ramps to get there. Hiccup to a minute of his time and turned to face the group.

"Absolutely!" Hiccup replied without a shadow of a doubt.

(scene change)

My lungs burned at the last of my air and now they were going into panic mode, heaving up and down trying to extract fresh air from nothing. I ignored the sting that the saltwater gave both of my eyes and frantically searched for a solution. My ears detected nothing but the sloshing roar of the ocean. _Ears . . . hearing . . . THAT'S IT! _

I knew that this cove was familiar; looking through rippling water, I could faintly see the cave. I raked my hands around in the sub-water sand, swiftly searching for anything that was heavy enough to throw. My right hand blindly caught hold of a largish smooth stone and brought it up. _Perfect! _I internally praised, hefting the heavy stone through the water. The hands holding me down found their way to my throat as I lifted the rock out from the water, trying to thwart any thing I might try. With one last burst of strength I sent the rock flying toward the cove's back, my vision pulsing with vibrant blotches of black. I was now choking on completely sour air, the end was in sight.

From my deaf position underneath the waves I couldn't hear the rock strike home on the cave's entrance, but could tell that it did because the fingers clamped around my neck loosened slightly before letting go completely. The rippling sight above me was that of shining lines convulsing in what I could label as pain. I only brought my lips above the surface, happily sucking at fresh air and seawater, and could hear the vibration roaring through my mouth. I retreated back below and watched the rippled images of Romans doubled over and clutching their ears. "Thunder Drum, this reclusive dragon inhabits caves and large tide-pools. When startled it emits a high pitched sound that can kill a man at short range."I remembered the old dragon manual, not as relevant to the true nature of dragons but very conscious of their capabilities. Now armed with the knowledge that their sound waves don't carry through water, I knew that I could survive here.

I came up only when I had to for air, anything else could wait, and in time the Romans finally left. I swam beneath the waves and rounded where the beach turned inland, only poking my head above the water once the cave was out of sight. I had prepared for that blasted noise to come roaring into my ears, but when I pulled onto the shore there was no such sound. I peeked around the edge of the naturally walled in cove, four dead Romans littered the sand; Mr. Scrawny wasn't among them to my disappointment. I turned and began the walk to the rendezvous point where Glint would probably be waiting . . .

**Dun . . . dun . . . WHATEVER!**

**So yeah, this is only half of a day because I can't bear to not update for much longer than three days (makes me feel like I'm letting people down) and this would take a lot longer than three days to finish the whole day in this story. Please review, I love people telling me what I need to work on and what I do well already. If people don't like the chapter, then they should tell me why and listen to some "Christaphori's Dream" by David Lanz. Now, time for me to go back to brainstorming for the next half of the day! **

**Me: Review? **

**Karma: Please?**

**Glint: Rrh? **


	13. Master Plan pt 2

**First off, sorry for not updating for the past week and a half. This is the second half of the day before last of Karma's lesson. By all means enjoy! Review with input and constructive criticism, it helps a lot! **

_italics = thought_

**Disclaimer: I honestly can say that I don't own the movie, but if I did I would have made more cool dragons than just the Night Fury (it's sad that there is only one cool dragon out of the whole thing).**

I was right, Glint was waiting as patiently as a dragon could at the appointed spot. I crunched along the beach to get to him, looking around him for any dragons he may have scouted; so far, I didn't even see one.

"Oi Glint, where are the recruits!" I asked, loud and angry. He looked down slightly, moaning in reply. _C'mon! I know that there was at least a Nadder here! _I was very short on patience after my latest run in with the Romans. Glint gave a weird whistling coo and out of the bushes came a small hoard of Terrible Terrors, I wasn't impressed much. "Well this'd be good if we were torching a rowboat! Come on, this is a friggin roman transport tub, we need more than just that!" the Terrors didn't seem to like my tone of voice, hissing and hunching defensively. Glint gave me the "I sorry" look, his ears flopping down, his eyes the size of dinner plates and shiny as the sea. I glared strait into them but my eyes wouldn't stay in that expression for much longer than a second. _Darn those big eyes, is it just some sort of defense mechanism! Well I've got news for you, your not going to get out of this like that . . . Ooooh fine, but I'm only letting you off this time!_

"Did you really look hard?" I said, breathing slowly to calm myself, he nodded "Did they catch the other dragons?" he paused and then nodded, I sighed and sat. How would we win this with only one Night Fury, a dozen or so Terrors, and me versus a huge Roman ship and the Romans therein? The ship had been proofed against fire, that was proven because it hadn't roared into flame when Glint and I had tried last night in our escape, but that didn't stop the explosion it caused. That gave me a pretty good idea of what we needed to do; we couldn't burn the ship down, but we _could_ blow it up! _. . . How? Terrors can burn but not blast, Glint can blast but not enough. Where could we get more dragons? _ It was really a stupid question I realized, I hailed from a place bountiful in dragons, we could get the added force from Berk! I already had the next step planned in my head as I looked intensely into Glint's eyes again, figuring that that would help him understand.

"Glint, I need you to go to Berk," I started, trying to think of a way to explain how to get there "y'see those clouds?" I asked pointing at the dark halo of cummulou nimbus, he stared at them for a moment before nodding "I want you to follow them until you find an island, it'll be Berk. Get as many dragons as you can to come here." I commanded, Glint confirmed his understanding by turning around and lifting a wing to let me on his back. I had never been on Glint's back, I had always just let him carry me below him, the gesture was touching as much as I hated to turn it down.

"No Glint, I'm not coming, I have to make sure that that barge stays here while your gone." he didn't look like he liked that idea, narrowing his eyes and growling lightly as if to say "your going"; I shook my head. I ripped off a bit of my already tattered shirt and began to write a quick message in runic with a piece of charred wood I had saved. Glint beckoned me to get on again, a little more forcefully this time, trying to pull me over with his outstretched wing. I shook my head again and held out my message to him, he sniffed at it and looked at me questioningly.

"If any viking tries to stop you, show them this." I held out the cloth to his mouth, he gave me the "you've gotta be kidding me" glare "Look! The faster you get them, the faster this will be over!" I yelled trying to push him away, he didn't budge. I stared at him, my one eye pleading with his two. He blinked in a resigned manner and took the bit of scrawled on cloth in his jaws, teeth retracted, and took off into the sky; he was flying pretty fast. _Please get back soon! _I begged fate before looked in the direction of the Roman ship, not really seeing it. They had probably cleaned the island out completely, the vessel would probably be re-embarking onto the sea soon. _If they are allowed to roam free, then they might try for Berk._ _If they caught Glint again, I don't know what I'd do. This ends today!_

The Terrors all looked at me like they expected me to do something, I self-consciously shoved my hands in my pockets and was surprised feel a slight pain in my right hand. The scale! I withdrew it from my pocket, remembering that I had put it there the night before after having escaped. I looked toward the other half of the island again, feeling out where the Roman carrier would have anchored, a plan formulating in my head again. The wind was a key player in all ships, without the wind a ship would have a very hard time moving. _Even with those oars they wouldn't get far without the wind_, I smiled at the realization. _This can work. This can work. This will work. This! WILL! WORK! _ I internally chanted to build my confidence.

The Terrors saw me getting into a ready stance, leaning forward and bending my knees slightly, and positioned themselves to pounce too. We took off into the trees like arrows from a bow, me running and them flying close behind, aiming for the enemy. Zipping through the trees with effortless ease, we charged. It came into sight, the hulking hull of our target; thick lines of rope trailed to stakes hammered into the ground to keep it from floating off. The aim was not to destroy, but to sabotage.

I came to one of the anchoring lines and started to scale the rope toward the railing. I slung myself over the side and onto the ship's main deck, flinging my head haphazardly from left to right as I scanned for anyone on board. Content that there was no one in sight I signaled to the Terror flock, pointing at them and then at the rigging that held the ship's sail up. They understood, flying swiftly to the pulleys and ropes of the rigging to do their unspoken job. They started to gnaw at the lines, the the sail quivering on its mast in protest. This was just what I wanted! I gripped the scale and started to chop at the lower half of the rigging on deck, the scale acting as a two edged sword as it cut the line as well as my unprotected fingers. Four more lines and I heard an extremely loud bang behind me as the main sail came crashing down down to the deck, snapping at three different points. That was when the Romans started to appear, screaming something that I guessed was to the effect of "um, I think they broke the sail".

"Time to go me boys!" I called up to the Terrors, they were still gnawing at ropes that had already snapped. They got my message and took to the air like arrows from bows, not even waiting for me; not that I expected them to anyway. I shoved the scale back into my pocket with my bloody hand and flung myself over the railing, Romans bellowing behind me. I had missed the rope, I found that out as I slammed hard into the rocky sand of the beach. Dazed, I pulled myself to my feet and started to speed-hobble towards the safety of the trees. My progress was impeded as I walked between two trees only to find the ground above me again, the sky to my feet, some sort of string holding me up in the air. Everything was spinning, I couldn't tell what had happened at all! Why was I upside down! I bounced twice on the cord, rewarded with a tightening edge of pressure on my ankle. _What is this!_

I tried bending up to get a better look at the cord, but found that everything was harder when suspended in midair. _It's like those Troll catching traps that my Gobber showed me how to make, _I realized, the rope that was cinched around my right ankle _did_ look a lot like them. The trap was a simple loop that is made with a weight on the other end of the rope, and when someone steps inside of it they get strung up like a fish. _That's simple, just cut the rope! _I figured as I tried to bend up again, sticking my hand into my pocket in search of my sharp scale. Pulling up with my arm on my ankle I tried to slice at the thin cord with the scale, it was hard to cut at the same spot with all the bungee bouncing my movement caused. I was almost halfway through at one spot when my hand was smacked with something icy and hard; the flat of a sword. The scale slipped from my blood slick fingers as I turned my head to look at my assailant. _WHAM! _The flat edge slammed on my temple, causing my vision to pulse with those hated black spots! _Being knocked out this often is definitely not good for people like me!_ I wanted to bellow as the darkness began to close in once more . . .

(K.O. Time Hath Passed)

My arms ached! I couldn't see anything because of a black blindfold shrouding my eyes, but I _could_ tell that it hurt. My legs were tied together at the heels and thighs, held strait by some unseen force, I wasn't standing on my own. There was something like a board pressed tightly against my back, I was tied to it at the waist, the ropes cutting into my flesh as they held me there. I could only guess that my legs were tied to this board too, what else could hold them up? My arms were what really hurt, held straight parallel with my legs and tied at the wrists to my prop, they burned with a searingly sore aching that could only be defined by the unnatural pose they were held in. _Oh gods this burns! _I internally complained, breathing out sharply. There was a slight tug at my blindfold, like someone was trying to pick it apart, and finally it came off. Before me stood a whole host of Romans standing on the deck, glaring critically; Mr. Scrawny standing in the front holding a torch. _Ow . . . what time is it? What happened . . . what's happening?_

The sky had already receded into a darker hue, portraying the hour perfectly, only a sliver of light on the horizon remained. I looked back at Mr. Scrawny, then his torch, trying to piece together what was going on. The torch didn't seem to bode well in my mind. He was awfully quiet for the loudmouth dog I had took him to be, but even a dog can shut up. I craned my neck to look down, neck-joints creaking with misuse, what I saw hit my like a stack of bricks. Bundles of straw, placed in a teepee at my feet, coupled with great logs of dry wood sticking in at regular intervals! They planned to burn me! I struggled and yanked at the bonds that stapled me to the pole, rewarded with rope burns and enraged bruises. Mr. Scrawny smiled his wide toothy sneer, swaggering forward with unprecedented smugness as I continued my attempted escape. He lifted the torch to my face, just close enough to singe my eyebrow, I hissed at the pain it caused. He laughed his barking cackle before letting go, the torch plummeting in slow motion towards the campfire in waiting.

_Noooo! _I tried to scream, but my throat felt too cracked and dry to even give a screech. The Romans had prepared well, the flame of the torch took almost instantly to the hay and so on. _These guys know how to build a fire! _I commended despite my predicament. The heat was already mounting, yet only half the wood was burning, causing my feet and legs to become unpleasantly warm. The searing began to climb up my thighs and to my midsection, flames coaxing their way into the fabric of my pants. I breathed in sharply, preserving any air that wasn't clouded up by smoke. The heat was rising once more, lances and swords of fiery pain raking across my skin like I was some great roast that they were carving up for dinner! My boots were beginning to fail, the flames eating away anything directly flammable, their soles and leather piecing detaching from each other only to be steadily consumed too. The whole of the fire's fuel was now alight, bathing me in a flare of bright orange, red, and yellow. The pain had dulled, even stopped, my senses had begun to slow. There was nothing now, nothing beyond my sphere of flame, just me and the blaze; no sound, no pain, not even the faintest sting to betray that I was still alive. _Pseh, so this is what the afterlife looks like . . . not very heroic . . . _my thoughts echoed bitterly as I eyed the flowing ribbons of flame encircling me.

A silhouette fluttered in the blaze, its ominous shadow portraying two flapping wings. _I had a dream like this once . . . _I remembered the nightmare from before. The muted glory of my fiery sphere was interrupted by a tiny sound, one that kept getting louder each time it echoed. The wingbeats, deep in pitch and subtle in sound, reverberated through my ears. The fluttering fire began to regain its crackle; the world had redeemed its noise, sputtering back into motion. _Glint? _I asked to the shadow in the flame, it seemed to be flapping its wings with less vigor than before. A skull rattling roar shattered through my body, its wings were now in a gliding position. The black backdrop behind the flames was lifted, I could see Romans scattering left and right as they ran from an unseen foe; all seemed to be fleeing to the starboard side; I looked port-side to see what they were so scared of. A flash of green and black streaked by, but the true spectacle was the trail of destruction that followed. The thick timbers of the deck had been completely torn through in a straight line across, the railing at the side had been ripped off like tissue paper, large splinters uprooted from the huge rift in the ship. I watched in awe, the pain still numb. I searched the sky for another trace of the dragon, I presumed, that had just destroyed the deck. Nothing.

I looked about me once more to take in my surroundings, the burning agony was nowhere to be found. We were somewhat off coast of "the Rock" a.k.a. the island I had been stuck on. Romans were skittering about, their armor clanking, some getting out weapons, others just trying to keep the ship from splitting in two. I was tied to a pole on one side of the deck with a bonfire raging around me. That concluded my survey of the scene. Feeling was beginning to return in my body, though I wished it didn't, the dry and tender sting of the burns were appearing in droves; not to mention the heat that was still etching its way in. I struggled to get free, the ropes weren't budging; they must have been proofed against flame too! I shrieked as the the pain intensified, my moment of nonfeelingness had passed completely, anything that _could_ move _was_; thrashing about as the lances of searing agony arched up my body. _Make it stop! It burns! Just make it stop . . ._

Then I heard it: a screeching whistle. From my vantage point in the center of the fire I had no clue what it was, but I _did_ know that it was getting louder and higher in pitch. There was a strange reverberation in the scream, like when you have two people making the exact same noise with the exact same pitch at the exact same time. _Two people . . . _I wondered through the pain. _Two people . . . _the shriek ended abruptly, but was soon replaced with an extremely loud crack like lightning just before thunder. The aftershock came, as if it were real thunder, a deep and resounding _BOOM! _The flame leaned away, the shock-wave of wind blowing it to my back, and I got to see what the hubbub was about. Two giant holes, spanning ten feet in diameter, one on either side of the fissure, had found their way into the ship's hull; a thin stream of smoke curling up from their bowels. The Romans were terrified, staring at the twin craters in a mixture of surprise, horror, and awe.

The bonfire began to stand straight again, I could tell from the pain, but it was short lived. Without a warning scream another ball of hot flame erupted onto the scene, delving deeper into one of the recent blast sites; this one was not so much blue, but a radiant orange. One by one more bolts of fire fell upon the ship's surface, bathing the mast and deck in sweet destruction. Up in the sky I beheld a group of dragons circling up above like birds of prey. I counted a Nadder, two Gronkles, and a Changewing, also betting that a Night Fury was up among the stars; this was great! A snapping sound brought my attention back; I looked to the rift's edge, was just it me or was it getting wider? Another blast, the crack got bigger before my eyes. _Definitely not just me! _Two more booms later and the rip was five feet across, what's more was that an ominous sloshing sound echoed up from the deep. I tried to call out to my rescuers, wanting to tell them to stop, but my smoke stung tongue could mold no words, nor could my desert dry throat pass out the air. Another great churning bellow erupted from the bilges, the ship swayed slightly; noticeably the sound gained intensity.

_Slosh . . . burble burble. Whoooosh! sloshedy slosh slosh! _The Roman carrier shuddered with the strain of keeping afloat. The foreboding racket from below could only mean one thing: we were sinking! Even with my gravity centered on the pole, to which I was bound, I could feel a sudden tilt backward. The water had no trouble expressing its desire to swamp this tub; the pitch of the gurgles were getting higher, signaling that the first level had been totally flooded. There was a noticeable drop as the ship no longer had anything to hold itself above water, sinking beneath the waves a foot a second. Water started to sputter forth from the great rip in the deck, running directly to my end. The good news was that the fire was gone, the bad news was that the ship was sinking and I was still tied to it! _Ooooh nonononononononooooo!_

The water had come up to my ankles, gaining quickly to my shins. _Not good! _I cringed at what I knew would come once my head went under. I looked up to the sky, begging the gods that my voice would return just long enough to call for help. It didn't . . . big surprise. It gained on my calves, the cold sensation running across my burnt legs was heavenly! But it wouldn't last . . .

_Thud!_ I felt it to my right, and struggled with the bindings to see. A wonderfully familiar face met me, Glint's bluish eyes radiating reassurance as well as pride. "Did I do well?" those glowing orbs seemed to ask. _You did good my friend . . . _I answered with my own eye, almost crying with joy. Glint looked me over, his eyes resting upon my bonds. Deliberately, he began to nip at them, trying to pry them far enough away to truly gnaw. To his apparent frustration they didn't come very far, it was expected when the ropes were tied as tight as mine were. His eyes brightened with another idea before he recoiled around the pole, out of my vision. I felt an unpleasant heat emanating to my left, he was trying to burn through. _Yup, fireproofed, _I concluded when I heard Glint's agitated growl. Hope was no longer an option, the end was nigh. The sea's wet hands pulled up to my chest in a sudden burst and Glint desperately pried at the taut line, still to no avail. He let out a whimper as I sunk down to my neck.

"It's alright Glint, y'did good." I tried to console him with the soft and dry-roughed voice I managed to conjure, he looked ashamed as if to say that this was his fault, "Do you think this sort of thing will kill me? Pah! I am _the_ immortal viking!" I lied trying to silence his sadness, hopefully he didn't know my reputation for being a bad liar. He perked up, I smiled, and licked my face as many times as he could before the sea brought his lucid and transparent hand up and dragged me below the surface . . .

_I'm sorry Glint . . . so . . . sorry . . ._

**Dun . . . dun . . . sob . . . **

**This is the semifinal chapter to Hard Taught. I am truly sorry to those that would rather I finished this chapter sooner, I hope to finish the final installment in a much quicker manner. **

**Karma: wait a second, I die!**

**Me: . . . probably . . .**

**Karma: to those that read this, I propose a vote!**

**Me: and what better way than to review!**


	14. Hard Learned

**Hello my dear readers, this chapter is the final installment of my story "Hard Taught". First of all I'd like to thank those of you who have reviewed as well as those who have given ideas that have helped me continue during periods of writer's block, these things have been my sole motivation for continuing and if not for them I would have given up after the first three chapters. I am also very ecstatic that everyone who reviewed gave me their poles as to whether Karma should live or not, it just goes to show you that people _do_ read the author's notes. Long live Macintosh!**

_italics = thought_

**Disclaimer: I do not own HTTYD, there wouldn't have been so epic of a story line if I did.**

Seraph walked along the stone path, her age betraying her. She had walked this trail many times, knowing just how easy it used to be when she was younger. She was fifty six now, her final years coming quickly as she trod life's downhill slope. Every now and then her son would escort her on these voyages into the mountains of Berk, the tall and strong boy acting as her crutch and helping her forget the endeavor of this walkway. She was halfway there already, knowing this part of the forest, the tree's overlooking the path and bathing it in cool refreshing shade. Her husband had loved the trees, believing that they were the embodiment of forgiveness, saying that they hold no grudges and give continually of their substance to men. The memory of her deceased partner stung at her eyes, prompting them to cry as she had done when he had first passed. She remained vigilant, however, recalling her promise never to cry again. The promise had been made when she had cried to him; he had teared up too . . .

(Switch)

Glint had dove after me, snapping vigorously at the well woven ropes. He had detected my lie, he had me figured out that well. His blue eyes were wide and frantic with desperation, rolling to and fro in a search for anything that could free me. I, on the other hand, was just doing my best to keep conscious, the numbness from my memories realizing around me once more. I don't know how long he tried; time held no definite tune, speeding up and then slowing down like a rock rolling down uneven slopes. I was calm, knowing exactly what was happening, it's less of a trauma when you know the end of the story. My calm only wavered when his eyes dimmed; I could tell that he was suffering for air just as much as I was, only I couldn't feel the full effects. _Go on up Glint . . . get some breath . . . I'm not going anywhere, _I said, motioning slightly with my pole bound arm, bubbles escaped my lips as I mouthed the words to him. In his dazed and fading pose, I noticed his eyes following the tiny pocket of sour air that I had released. In a sloshing burst he shot for the surface, which was a very long way away now . . .

(Switch)

She was nearing the final hilltop, the trek across Berk's rough landscape drawing to its close. The path had stayed true, as always, she remembered when they had first built it to lead to Berk's memorial ground twenty seven years ago in honor of her father-in-law's death. Seraph wondered if her husband would go to valhalla too; he hadn't died in an epic battle, a Viking's dream, he had kicked the bucket out of old age. Sixty three years was a particularly long life for any man, but it was implied that those who died old had done no great and life-threatening deeds in their past. She knew that the idea was ridiculous, her husband had done far too many things to let the dishonor of old age restrict him from his seat in the halls above. How lucky she was to have such a man as he.

The steep incline of the narrow road ended, sloping forward to reveal a round field only fifteen feet in diameter. Thin stone structures, pillars and headstones, jutted up from the ground, some as high as five feet. Upon them were runic acknowledgements, praises to heroic actions, memoirs that would lift spirits up to the high hallways of Valhalla. In the center of this courtyard were two shimmering obelisks standing side-by-side, one slightly taller than the other, yet their splendor the same. Seraph looked to the taller and bowed in humble respect, these two towers signified the men that she admired the most.

"In memory of Hiccup H. Haddock III, whose curiosity as well as courage changed the way we live for the better. May his soul be merry in the realm above." she read out loud from memorial, never doubting a word of it. She turned to the second shining spectacle, smiling at all the memories she had been given by her husband. _In remembrance of Karma Hopeful Haddock IV . . ._

(Switch)

It saddened as well as relieved me that he had left, now that the threat to _his_ life was over I was complete, and content to embrace my impending doom. The pounding in my ears was now less of a slam and more of a thump, the intervals beginning to space apart like a song changing tempo to a slow and grave tune. The salt that stung at my eyes lost its edge, I stared freely into the calm realm below the sea; such a peaceful place to end at. The opaque blue before me was marred with a new sight, a large and looming form floating before me. My vision had blurred to the point where I could only make out a shadowy frame of what was there, the only exception was the great yellow-slitted eyes that were fixed upon me icily. _Not Glint, _I concluded in what little consciousness that I had left. The shadow blurred in movement, closing the gap between us. I had almost expected this to be death's physical form, but what came next proved against my theory.

With what little feeling I had left in this mortal coil I sensed a firm-pressured hold being lifted from me, the shadowy silhouettes of my bonds floating freely before me. I had been let go? I turned my gaze back to the large looming shadow, my savior, it narrowed its slits and shot away, leaving me on my own in the shade shrouded waters below the waves. I willed to move, but my body refused with a will of iron, not floating _closer_ to the surface, but further away. The haze took complete hold over my body, my senses completely overridden, nothing was everything and everything was nothing . . .

(Switch)

. . ._ whose grand adventures of his past overshadowed the final feat of his death . . ._

(Switch)

There was something! Something in my world of nothing. Something that denied all the aspects of the blackness surrounding me. A light shone in, much like a great door opening into an abandoned room. I could move again, slowly walking to the great rectangle of whiteness and peeking through. There was a strange freshness in the air . . . wait, there was air now! A warmth surrounded me like a great fur blanket, heat was entering my world of nothing! The brightness began to fade, at first I was sad that the first of the many things was leaving my world, leaving me in the blackness again, but the darkness didn't return when the light left. Colors began to fade into view before me, shaping into things that I could not yet identify. Browns began to paint the portrait, tiny tinges of black laying down outlines, tans and yellows filtering in at assigned places before the prize hues burst into view. Vibrant greens and blues rippled across the picture that painted itself before me, oranges and reds spattered in the choicest of placement, and last the specks of white returned to their rightful posts. The masterpiece before me was finished, allowing me to scan across the product.

The scene was of my room, surprisingly enough, with a view from the bed. The painter must have been an expert that had spent loads of time memorizing each grain of texture. I reached out to feel the canvas, as i had deemed it, and was astounded to feel the soft and velvety touch of my bed covers, the hard texture of the headboard. What mesmerized me more than the exquisite touch of everything was that I could see my hand feel it, it was real; I was alive!

(Switch)

. . ._ He lived to the age of sixty; the dragon Glint never leaving his side through it all. _Seraph finished in her head, she always read those words within her mind, letting them bring out all the emotions that could never be found elsewhere; the smiles, grimaces, and laughter of her life with him. _Rest well my husband, I'll see you soon._ She was smiling as she started back down the hill, not because he was dead, but because he had lived . . .

(Switch Final)

Beside me rested the creature that had saved me, not just from my death but from my hate, his body draped sideways over the bed in exhaustion, his head resting on my chest as if to make sure my heart was still beating. I moved to scratch his happy spot under the chin, but was stopped by the pain that ripped across my body from the simple movement. I gently rolled back the covers, wincing at even that, to check myself over. Nothing was gone, but everything hurt. My movement and sudden breathing woke Glint, he lifted his head up and looked at me. I smiled, he grinned toothily.

"Hey bud . . ." I stated hoarsely, he purred back like I had just given him a rubdown on his neck. I heard a sudden bout of footsteps outside the door and dad came flying in only to stop at the doorway, a familiar black face watching from behind him. A few seconds later and mom came barreling in on her wheelchair, expertly skidding to a halt next to dad. They both gave me a look-over before dad piped up in a solemn tone.

"Lesson learned." he stated proudly, smiling with a vigor. I grinned back, lifting my hand to give Glint a slight scratch behind the ears.

Living on an island with people as tasteless as the dirt that riddles it, after having learned a lesson I can't put into words, with the only reassurance that I have a friend that will stick with me through thick and thin. Sounds great doesn't it?

Yes, yes it does . . .

Fin

(means the end)

**I'm sorry if this final chapter bounces around more than the others. As you may have guessed, the Timber Jack freed him as well as put that big cut in the deck last chapter. I am pleased to say that this is the part where you let your imagination run wild with epic ideas of what happened between right now and Karma's _real_ death of old age. I bid thee readers farewell, at least until I write again.**

**Karma: Wow . . . that was a stupid ending . . .**

**Me: -sniffle-**

**Karma: Oh please! Your eyes are nowhere as big as Glint's, I'm not falling for that again!**

**Glint: -sniffle-**

**Karma: Ooookaay, it wasn't _that_ bad of an ending. At least I didn't die!**

**Me: Yeah, yeah, whatever. As a parting gift from you readers to me, please review and tell me your thoughts on the whole story.**

**Karma: -sniffle- please?**


End file.
